


Come Happiness or High Treason

by Anguisette90



Series: High Water [5]
Category: The Dresden Files - Jim Butcher
Genre: A ridiculous amount of fluff, Apples Really Don't Fall Far From Their Trees, Camping, Cause I'm Allergic to Feels, Drama, Engagement, Everpresent Looming Threat of Death/Torture, F/M, Family Feels, Family Reunions, Family Secrets, Family Vacation, Hurt No Comfort, It's Just Allergies, Jealousy, Marriage Proposal, Possessive Sex, Rage, Spoilers, Wedding Fluff, Wedding Planning, i'm not crying, parent feels, the fluff before the storm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-09
Updated: 2020-03-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:14:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 65,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23073046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anguisette90/pseuds/Anguisette90
Summary: “We’re so fucked.” Molly said with a content sigh, rolling over to lay on the floor next to me, sitting against the coffee table.I laughed, because what else could I say? “Big time. I have no idea how we’re going to do any of this.” I found her hand and twined it with mine.“We’ll find a way. It’s what we do, right?”“You’re damn right it is.”Some major unexpected developments threaten to completely turn Harry and Molly's world upside down, and it's hard to say whether or not it will be for the better once it all settles. That is,ifit all settles. When secrets, old and new, come to light it only complicates matters. Our duo is suddenly faced with a thousand questions and the only answers they have are dangerous ones. The biggest question: How do you make it to your happily ever after, when doing so might just be the end of reality as we know it?
Relationships: Molly Carpenter/Harry Dresden
Series: High Water [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1595575
Comments: 14
Kudos: 23





	1. Chapter 1

It was hard to hear over the sound of my own heartbeat. It was crazy. I mean, I thought I’d heard my girlfriend, maiden avatar of the triple goddess, tell me she was pregnant. She must have been joking. But her tear-stained face held nothing but frustration. “Are you…are you sure?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m sure.” Molly hugged herself tightly. “I don’t know how the hell it’s possible but, I’m sure.” I dropped down to one knee, unable to speak, and fumbled the little black velvet box out of my pocket. She looked down at me with a mix of horror and disgust. “Oh come on. Get up. Put that away. Why do you even have a – never mind. I can’t deal with that right now.” She stalked over to her usual chair and sunk down into it, burying her face in her hands.

“Molls, hey, it’s alright.” I rubbed her shoulder, kicking myself for not seeing the obvious answer to ‘what’s been up with Molly lately?’ before. “Hey, at least we know it’s not iron poisoning now.”

“I’d rather it be iron poisoning!” She groaned, peeking above her fingers to look at me. “What are we going to do?”

“What do you mean what are we going to do?” I asked, confused by her melancholy attitude. “Celebrate! We're going to…” I petered out in the face of her forlorn expression and slowly, carefully repeated, “What do you mean, what are we going to do, Molly?”

“Think about this. Really think. I _can't_ be pregnant. The maiden, the mother, the crone.” She ticked each aspect of the goddess off on a finger. “That's what we are. There's already two mothers and two crones kicking around. What happens when a maiden gets in a family way?”

“I…don't…know.” I thought it through and came up empty.

“No one does! Because it doesn't happen! It shouldn't be possible!” She was hysterically shouting. “I break anyone who threatens a chance of pregnancy. Mab told me ‘the mantle protects itself’ because becoming a mother would destroy my mantle’s power. I hate this fucking nightmare curse but I can't be responsible for destroying the Winter Lady’s mantle, can I? And even if I was okay with that can you imagine what that would do to the balance? I mean, I know I'm not allowed to be happy for more than five consecutive minutes at a time but Christ, I thought I could at least be with you without bringing about apocalyptic destruction. Don't know why I thought that in hindsight. But hey, she'll probably kill us when she finds out anyway, so at least it won't be our problem for once. Maybe we can–”

I kissed her softly, kneeling in front of her and taking her hands in mine. “Take a deep breath. Now another. Keep going, slow deep breaths for me. Count 'em out if you have to. Just concentrate on my voice, my touch. I’m right here. You're okay. We’ll get through this. Just stay calm. Stay with me.” It took her a few moments but she did, and for a second it reminded me so much of her training that I forgot where (or, more importantly, when) we were. Then, of course, it occurred to me what she was freaking out about and the world lurched a little bit. No, she was most assuredly _not_ my apprentice anymore. I caught her eyes and tried my hardest to just look supportive and not nervously excited and terrified. “Now Molls, forget everything else for a moment. Just focus on you. What do _you_ want?”

“It doesn’t work like that, Harry. I can't just ignore everything else. This could literally bring about the end of the world. Or at least large-scale chaos and destruction. The next ice age. I can't–”

“We’ll burn that bridge when we get to it. One step at a time. The first thing you need to ask yourself is what do you really want? In a perfect world, what would you do? I know it’s hard with Winter, but try to listen to your heart on this. I don't think it's something you want to logically talk yourself into or out of.”

She looked so young. God, had I ever looked that young before? But she was a grown woman or we wouldn't be having this conversation. “What do _you_ want to do? It shouldn't just be my decision.”

I gave her a half-smile. “I'll tell you what I think in a moment. First I want to know your answer.” She started to protest but I gave her a firm look. “We both know you have a bad habit of putting what I want over your own wants and needs. This is too big for that. I want to know what you want, unbiased, and then I'll tell you my answer.”

Molly’s blue eyes sparkled, bloodshot though they were. Her lashes were still wet with tears as they delicately blinked against her cheeks. Vulnerable. It wasn't just that she looked young, she looked terribly vulnerable. I wasn’t used to seeing it after so long. Her heart was racing as her eyes searched mine, like she could see what my answer would be in my eyes. She knew me well enough, she shouldn't have needed to wonder, but I don't think she was firing on all cylinders. I thought for an instant that she looked like a rabbit, run down and cornered by a predator with nowhere else to go, and I hoped to god it wasn't what she felt like. I fought to keep my own worry about what her answer would be hidden, tamped down so she wouldn't see or feel it. Whatever she decided, I'd go along with it, this had to be her choice. “Harry…” So much heartache in one word. Stay steady, Harry. Be strong for her. Whatever she wants. Whatever she needs. Don't pressure her. “In a perfect world, there wouldn't even be a question. A kid, _our_ kid? Of course I want him, with all my heart.”

I barely registered her answer over that one word. “‘Him’?” A smile broke over her face, like the sun rising over a stormy horizon and she nodded wordlessly. I threw my arms around her in what was probably an awkward, crushing hug and I couldn't care. “‘Him’.” I breathed.

“‘Him’.” She agreed softly, one hand stroking the back of my head. “Yes, Harry. It's selfish and stupid and dangerous but god yes. A million times over. I have never wanted anything more in my entire life.”

“Then that's all that matters. Everything else is just problems to solve. We’ll figure it out, together.” She hugged me back then and we sat there for a long time just holding each other. I'm not as good with the emotional stuff as she is, but I thought for that moment we both allowed ourselves to just be happy for us, for our son, for our growing family. There were terrible burdens, problems that seemed insurmountable, and a whole world of trouble coming for us on the heels of that happiness, but we took the time to just ignore the world and appreciate what we had.

When the moment passed, I pulled back to look at her. “I was serious with that proposal, you know.”

She shook her head. “Don't be an idiot. It’s not 1920. We don’t have to get hitched just because you knocked me up.”

“That's not why I’m asking.” I pulled the black velvet box out of my pocket again with clumsy hands. “I didn’t just conjure this out of thin air. I was waiting for the right moment. And, well.” I sat back and opened the box to reveal the small silver band. It looked like vines twirling to the center where a diamond bloomed like a flower. Really, it looked like something more befitting Summer than Winter but I wasn’t asking as the Winter Knight and I certainly wasn’t asking her as the Winter Lady. I'd bought it months ago, originally thinking maybe Valentine's day, but that seemed trite and I didn’t want to steal Thomas’s birthday thunder. I almost did it back on Ebb’s ranch, but the day had gone so perfectly and I knew she would argue about it and I didn’t want to ruin that perfect memory. Now I thought of that day when I looked at the ring, of sunlight dappling the leaves of vine-covered trees, of wildflowers and honeysuckle on the breeze while we were perfectly human together. My heart thudded once, twice. Perfectly human. “Oh, Hells Bells.”

“Weird way to propose, but go on,” Molly said, amused.

I flushed. “Sorry, sorry, I just realized I’m an idiot.” I shook my head. “I'll explain in a moment. But first, Molls, would you do me the honor of being my wife?”

“Harry,” She gave me a sad smile. “You know I’d love to, but we talked about this. You are bound to serve all three Queens. But Mab outranks me. You said it yourself this morning. If you pledge a vow to me, if she finds out you’re sworn to me before her, she'll kill us both. I mean, I had to mislead her about us dating. You think she’ll be cool with marriage?”

“Right. Right. All good points.” I nodded sagely. There was a time when I might have been crushed by her rejection but I’d anticipated this and I wasn’t giving up without a fight. Plus, recent developments had made my argument way easier. “So, do you think she’s going to ‘be cool’ with the fact that you’re pregnant with my child? Just a guess, but I think she’ll pick up on the whole ‘we’re together’ thing at some point in the next few months. You think?”

Molly blushed. “Point. But a marriage is adding insult to her injury. We’ve already discussed this and it’s a lovely thought but it can’t happen.”

I sighed, trying to stop my sweating palms from shaking and to force the words I’d practiced at least a dozen times out of my mouth. “Molly, I’ve spent a lot of time telling myself why we couldn’t or shouldn’t be together. I’m too old for you. You’re too young. You were my apprentice. I’m too dangerous to be around. Your mother would kill me. Your father would be disappointed in me which is somehow worse than being killed.” She giggled. “I’ve asked you to do so much for me and you’ve always done it. I worried that us together would be just one more thing you’d do for me without thinking about yourself. And now that we’re together, I’ve heard your own objections. _You’re_ too dangerous for _me_. I wouldn’t like you if I knew everything about you. Mab will kill us both if she even suspected we were dating, let alone married. I mean when you put all of that together, it really makes a case for why you and I, this thing we have, is a terrible idea.”

“Do you understand how proposals work?” She asked but she was smiling with her whole face, her eyes alight.

“And maybe that’s true.” I continued, matching her smile. “Maybe this will end in disaster. Maybe there’s no chance of this working out. Maybe you’ll become Maeve and I’ll become Slate or maybe we’ll both be killed first. Hell, maybe we’ll destroy each other before anyone else gets the chance.”

“Okay, really?” She laughed, a bright bubbling thing. “100% sure you shouldn’t mention murder when proposing. 100%.”

I kept talking as though she hadn’t interrupted, fighting to keep from laughing myself. I'm sure she had a point. “But I don’t see that, because we’re a team, you and I. The two of us together? After everything we’ve been through, I think we can defy any odds. We’ve got each other’s backs in all things. You know me better than anyone else. You’re the best friend, best lover, best partner I have ever had. So, I don’t care about titles and obstacles and obligations. Right now I’m just me, just Harry Blackstone Copperfield Dresden, kneeling before you, Margaret Katherine Amanda Carpenter, asking you to do one more stupid, and dangerous, and impossible thing with me for the rest of forever. Please Molly, will you marry me?”

“Idiot. You big, dorky, jerk face idiot.” She said softly, crying again but with what I fervently hoped were happy tears.

“Geeze, Molls. I don't know if you know how proposals work, but I'm pretty sure you're supposed to say yes or no. Or at least not insult the poor g–” Her lips crashed into mine and we toppled backward as she fell off the chair onto me. “So. Is that. Yes. Or?” I asked with a grin between kisses.

“You are. A terrible. Influence.” She propped herself up on her elbows. “You must be rubbing off on me. God help us both, yes. Fine. Yes. In for a penny in for a pound right? Let’s do it.” We grinned at each other, too excited and recklessly happy to worry about anything else. “We’re so fucked,” Molly said with a content sigh, rolling over to lay on the floor next to me, sitting against the coffee table.

I laughed, because what else could I say? “Big time. I have no idea how we’re going to do any of this.” I found her hand and twined it with mine.

“We’ll find a way. It’s what we do, right?”

“You’re damn right it is.” We sat on the floor, holding hands, staring at the far wall with the blank TV, both lost in our own thoughts. I figured hers probably mirrored mine. How did we keep this from destroying the balance? Was this why her power had been growing? What even happened when there were two mothers in one Court and no maiden? Would this change her even more than her current mantle? Could she opt to give up the mantle? Either or both of them? And Mab. Holy hell, what were we going to do when she found out? Oh god. What were we going to do when _Charity_ found out?

“I've been lying to you,” Molly said out of nowhere. I turned to look at her and she squeezed my hand. “Not directly of course, but I've been keeping secrets, lies of omission, that kind of thing.”

“I know,” I told her, frowning in confusion. “That's not anything new, is it? I mean, you can't tell me everything and that's okay. I've made peace with it.”

“It’s not okay. And I don't want to do it anymore.” She took a deep breath. “I'll need a little time to work it out, but there's someone I need to introduce you to. I think it's important that you talk before you and I exchange any vows or anything.”

“Nothing is going to change my mind, Molls.”

She grimaced. “No, this one really might, Harry. And I will completely understand if it does. Or if you need to take some time or whatever you need.”

“Molly,” I slid the ring on her finger then took her hand again. “I wouldn't have asked if there was anything in this world that could change my mind. Especially not now.” I placed our conjoined hands low on her stomach.

“You’re not going to feel anything, weirdo.” She laughed quietly. “He's still just a tiny little guy.”

“How do you know? Not that I don’t believe you, just, how are you sure?”

“I went to see Butters like you suggested and he didn’t know what to do but uh, something he said made me think and…” She hesitated, screwing her face up in a regretful wince. “I freaked out and called Sarissa.” When I didn’t say anything about Sarissa knowing our secret (because, really, how long could we keep it a secret anyway?) she continued. “She did some medical stuff and some Summer magic stuff and…I’m not too far along.”

“Let me guess, a little over two months? Give or take?” I suggested.

“Yeah, why?”

My turn to cringe. “Because that’s how long it’s been since the picnic at Ebenezer’s ranch. When we both had our mantles suppressed meaning we were just plain humans. Doing what humans do. Without taking any of the precautions two reasonable, healthy humans should.”

“Oh.” She thought about it for a moment then blushed. “We really should have thought of that.”

“Yeah, but I don’t remember doing a whole lot of thinking that day.”

Molly’s smile faded to horror and she grew so tense I started looking around for threats. “Harry. We _cannot_ tell our son that he was conceived in the middle of a field.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “Maybe he was conceived against that rock in the stream instead.”

She hid her face in her hands. “Oh god. That's not any better.”

“Relax, I don't think that's something people normally ask their parents. Maggie’s never asked and I hope to god she never does.” It was my turn to tense. “How do you think Maggie will take the news?”

“That we’re getting married or that she’s going to have a half-brother?”

I scowled at the term ‘half-brother’. Like blood was the only thing that mattered. Thomas was my brother, plain and simple. And our little guy was going to be Maggie’s brother, no matter who their mothers were. “The baby. She’ll be delighted that we’re getting married. She loves you.”

“I don’t know. I was excited about the first one. Less so for the second. By the time Amanda rolled around it was like ‘Meh. As long as it doesn't sleep in my room, I guess whatever’.”

“So as long as we cut it off at two or three we should be good?” I asked, straight-faced.

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, let’s try not to end the world with this one before you start planning on making a whole pack of Dresdenlings, ‘kay?” She leaned her head on my shoulder. “This feels unreal. Pregnant. I mean. I never thought...even before it was impossible I just didn't, like, see myself ever being someone’s mom. I'm way too fucked up for that. Right?”

“You're asking the wrong person, Molls.” I planted a kiss on her forehead.

“‘Mom’. That sounds so…weird. Like, a mom should have her shit together. And probably not say things like ‘have her shit together’. Ugh.” She slumped further against me. “I guess it's not important since we'll probably be killed and/or wipe out the planet with the next ice age before he's born.”

“I exterminated a species for Maggie. I’ll do what it takes to make the world safe for our kids.”

“Yeah, well, no offense but that’s not exactly comforting.” She pressed herself tighter against me. “Whatever deals we have to make, whatever we have to do, just remember I expect you to still be standing on the other side. No mind wipes, no hauntings, no leaving me alone again.”

“Of course.” I followed my words up with a kiss. “I'm not about to let you go now. Leave you to raise not one but two of my spawn on your own? Psh. I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemies.” I didn't add that if I couldn't make it out, I was pretty sure she'd be going down right beside me, but we both knew it. “How did Sarissa react?”

Molly laughed breathlessly. “Uh. About as well as I did. It was a lot of ‘that can't be right’ and ‘how did you even do this?!?!’ and ‘what the hell does this mean for all of us?!’ I eventually told her I needed to think and just kind of process everything. I owe her a follow-up conversation about what I'm planning and I told her she could run more tests and poke and prod me. It's ‘magically and scientifically fascinating’ apparently.”

I would have argued about letting the Summer Lady run tests on my fiancée and unborn child (which, whoa, kind of dizzy just thinking those words) but the front door chose that moment to swing open, bringing with it a warm summer breeze and the sound of my brother and daughter in a heated debate about the best superhero. “I’m just saying, Batman has the coolest gadgets. He's ready for anything.” Thomas insisted.

“Yeah, ready to get his butt kicked by someone with actual powers. Being rich isn’t a superpower Uncle Tommy.”

“It’s worked out pretty well for me so far.” He said and I could see the way his face would twist bitterly with that statement, even through the walls. He came around the corner and just stared with a raised eyebrow. “Do I want to know what happened here?”

“I’d love to show you, but with Maggie home, I’m not sure it’s appropriate,” Molly replied without missing a beat. I bit back the jealous growl that came unbidden to my lips. Joke. It was just a joke. Besides, we hadn’t done anything risqué anyway. She was teasing him.

“Perhaps another time then,” Thomas replied, winking. “Seriously, everything okay here?”

Molly and I shared a look. “It's been a weird day, man,” I told him, standing up and offering a hand to Molly. She let me pull her up and Thomas let out a low whistle.

“I bet it has.” He glanced pointedly at the diamond sparkling on her ring finger. “Fascinating choice of accessory.”

We shared another look before Molly rolled her eyes. “He was the first to know we were dating. Might as well be the first to know this too.” She held her hand out for his inspection, grinning. “You just missed the weirdest, sweetest proposal in the world.”

“I told you she'd like it,” Thomas said, smirking. He had. I’d needed a second opinion. “I also told you that you should have gotten it over with months ago, you big chicken.”

“Yeah, you're right about that.” I thought, rubbing at the back of my neck. Like maybe on or before the day I got her pregnant with our son? And since she hadn't mentioned him yet, I followed her lead. It was still early and there was a world of trouble surrounding that information so I was fine sitting on it until we had developed some kind of action plan. Or at least fully processed that we were going to be parents together to not just my very mature, mellow, relatively easy-to-handle pre-teen but now to an infant as well. A little person who was wholly dependent on the two of us to keep him alive, not even capable of speaking or communicating his needs. Molly took my hand again, squeezing to stop me from the spiral of panic she must have known I was falling into.

“Nonsense.” She countered, beaming at me. “You waited until today because it was finally the perfect time.”

“The perfect time for what?” Maggie asked, trailing into the room with Mouse at her heels. She looked between the two of us. “Oh, did you finally ask her? Did she say yes?” She was practically bursting with joy.

I laughed. “Yeah kiddo. I did and she did.”

“Yay!” She squeaked, running over to hug us both tightly. “I told you not to worry, daddy.”

“How many other people did you talk to about this before you finally got up the nerve to ask?” Molly asked me softly, one hand stroking Maggie’s hair absently.

“Just these two. And Michael, of course.”

“Michael, my dad? My dad knows about this?” She had the look of a deer in the headlights.

“Well yeah. I wasn’t about to propose without getting your father's blessing.” I left off the “duh” that I was feeling. Of course I'd talk to Michael first. It was what you did. And it also seemed like the _least_ you could do before marrying a buddy’s kid, eldest or not.

“He said yes?” If her eyebrows raised any higher, they were going to come clear off her head. “To you asking me to marry you? My father? Michael Carpenter? He told me I wasn’t even allowed to kiss a boy till I was 40. When I was eight he caught me holding hands with a neighbor boy whose family was Lutheran and he forbade me from playing with him anymore. But he said yes to us?” She snorted in disbelief, then after a moment, she narrowed her eyes at me. “Also, we live in the 21st century, where you don't need my father's permission to marry me. He doesn’t need to give me away. No one is giving or receiving a dowry. The only important opinions about our marriage are mine and yours. And Maggie's,” She added, looking down at her. “What do you say, Squirt? You cool with this?”

Maggie pulled a thoughtful face. “Will you promise to always love and protect him?”

I saw the flicker of pain in Molly’s eyes before she said, “Remember what we talked about, about making promises with me?”

Maggie nodded. “I do. But this is an important one. Don't you think?”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. Not only do I promise to always love and protect your father to the best of my abilities, I'll pinky promise it. How's that?” She held out her pinky and Maggie took it solemnly.

“Very well. Then yes, you have my blessing Miss Molly.” She nodded and Molly fought to keep a straight face when she leaned down to kiss the top of her head, sealing the promise. Maggie shivered, and I made a note to ask Molly later if vanilla humans felt the weight of a deal fall into place or if we needed to start adding practical lessons to Maggie’s training now too. She hadn't mentioned anything happening but with a half-vampire mother, I wasn’t entirely sure what to expect from her powers if/when they manifested. There were plenty of books on wizard kids, but half-vamps (when they were still a thing) tended to lose control and kill their partners before pregnancy was a concern so to the best of my knowledge Maggie was the only one.

God, I didn't make parenting easy on myself, did I? What would our son even be? Magical, no doubt. Usually magic was inherited along your mother’s bloodline and Molly had no shortage of power. Although the McCoy line had been strong enough to breed true in my mom, even though her mother was a regular human, so he’d potentially have more power than he knew what to do with. But would he be human or a changeling? I’d love him no less no matter what but the thought of a half-sidhe child terrified me. He could be called to Choose. He could be forced to serve Winter. Hell, with our influence he could be a vessel for my mantle in the event of my death once he was of age. And Maggie for Molly’s. Shit. Molly had tried to tell me that and I hadn’t listened, hadn’t allowed myself to understand but...another squeeze of my hand, tight enough to hurt, brought me out of my head but didn’t stop my panicked heartbeat.

“I’m going to be your step-mom, I don’t think you need to call me ‘Miss’ Molly anymore.” She said, ruffling Maggie’s hair like I always did.

“Missus and Mister Carpenter said we should always call all adults Mister or Missus or Miss.”

“Mrs. and Mr. Carpenter have a lot of rules that we don’t follow here, right? Just like we have rules that they don’t. This is one of those rules that I think is silly.”

“What _should_ I call you?” Maggie asked. Molly glanced at me and I shrugged.

“Whatever you want, Squirt. I just meant that we’re going to be a family, you and your dad and I and, um, uncle Thomas too. You don’t need to be so formal.” I don’t think that last ‘and’ had originally been for Thomas and I found myself smiling at her almost-slip. She'd known about him for less than a day and had already accepted that our son was now part of our family too. It made me absurdly proud.

“Not that I’m one to look a gift horse in the mouth but, why am I suddenly invited to dinner with the Dresdens?” Thomas asked, looking around the dining room. “Do you guys really do this Brady Bunch, sit together for a wholesome family dinner thing every night?”

I snorted, setting down the plate of burgers and dogs. In all of the confusion of the day, we’d both forgotten about things like ‘actually making a dinner to serve to people coming over for dinner’. Fortunately, we had a charcoal grill and meat and I was able to rectify the issue in no time. Thomas had kept me company while I cooked, and we talked about nothing, just shooting the breeze. I endeavored to enjoy every moment of it while the normalcy lasted. When we came inside, the table was set, side dishes had been made and set out, Molly had changed into a gorgeous little sundress that laced up the back and had either glamoured herself or added makeup to hide her puffy, tired eyes. She looked bright and happy and every bit the excited, recently engaged twenty-something that she would have been in a perfect world. Maybe it wasn’t an act but I suspected it was, at least partially.

“We only sit at the table when we have company,” Maggie told Thomas, sliding into a seat across from him. “So you must be company.”

“Actually, we have another guest joining us tonight.”

“Right. You said your mentor was coming, right?” Thomas asked and I nodded. “And I’m here because…”

I probably should have just told him. But you only get so many opportunities in life to torture your brother when you don’t know he’s your brother until you’re in your twenties. So I just said, “I wanted you guys to meet properly. You know, when there aren’t life or death stakes.”

“Why?”

I shrugged. “He’s important to me. You’re important to me. Isn’t that enough?”

“He invited Wizard McCoy to meet the family.” Molly chimed in, sitting beside Maggie. “You qualify.”

“Uh, not in front of a Senior member of the White Council, no.” He argued. “Plus, that old bastard hates me.”

Molly laughed. “Hey, at least he's never hunted you down for execution.”

“Daddy, this Mister McCoy doesn’t sound like a very nice guy. Why are you friends with him?” Maggie asked. Mouse was standing attention at her side and she had one hand buried in his fur. Which she only did when she was nervous. Perfect.

“Everybody just relax, okay? Sometimes a person has to be or act a certain way in public, even though they’re someone else entirely in private, something which I think most of us here are familiar with. Ebenezer is no different. He’s stuck his neck out for me on more than one occasion and he taught me how to be the man I am. Now, he might come across a little gruff but if you give him a chance, I think he’ll come around to you, all of you.”

“Harry, no offense but I don’t give a single fu–” Thomas started. Molly cleared her throat and looked meaningfully at Maggie. “Really? I expect that from him, but from you? Fine. I don’t care one way or the other if your old mentor likes me.”

“Just give him a chance. You two have a lot in common. I think you’ll change your mind once you know him a little better.” I assured him with a smile.

Molly, who I noted had been just staring transfixed at the ring on her finger in between conversation, looked up at me with suspicion. “You're up to something. You have that look, like you’re up to no good.”

“I have no idea what you mean, darling.” Her eyes narrowed. “Sugar bear.” Her eyes narrowed further. “Molly-pop.” If she narrowed them any further she'd have to close them. I leaned across the table to kiss her. “You said it earlier, he's my father figure. I just want him to meet the family. Why are you so paranoid?” I made it sound reasonable but I didn't bother hiding the grin that gave me away.

Molly was saved from having to find a new way to glare at me by the chime of the wards letting us know someone (specifically a magic-wielding human) was on our property, followed by a heavy knock on the door. I got up to answer with much more trepidation than I was letting on. Dropping the news that Ebenezer was related to us was big, but I was more worried about Ebenezer’s reaction to Molly and me, now that she'd put it in my head. And I wasn’t just telling him we were dating, we'd be telling him we were getting married as well. Oh, and while we're at it, add in confirmation that his daughter had slept with Lord Raith of the White Court as evident by the incubus sitting down to dinner with us. I shook my head and steeled myself. Ebb was many things, but he'd always had a soft spot for me, always come around to the crazy, stupid decisions I made, and always stood by me. He would see how important my brother and my fiancée (my heart did a weird nervous/excited flutter every time I thought the word) were to me and he'd accept them too. I hoped.


	2. Chapter 2

Ebenezer looked older than the last time I'd seen him in person, which seemed impressive since he was somewhere around 300 years old and had looked old the entire time I’d known him. He looked worn, a bit more grizzled and perhaps more defeated than he used to. But hey, it had been a rough couple of years for all of us. I sure as hell didn't look the same as I had when he'd last seen me either. He met my eyes with a smile that lit up his whole face and it warmed me from my head to my toes to see it. I hadn't realized how much I missed the old man until he was standing before me. And then he reached out and cuffed me upside the back of the head. “You stupid, foolish, reckless idiot. Don't you ever pull another stunt like that again, you hear me, boy?”

People three blocks away could probably hear him but I just nodded. “Yes, sir. It's good to see you. I missed you too.”

“Don't go putting words in my mouth, Hoss. I'm just tired of cleaning up all the messes you made.” He lied, pulling me into a hug. “You ever scare me like that again, I'll drag you back to life so I can kill you myself.”

I thought that Mab might be doing that exact thing in the near future, but instead, I just said, “Come in. Dinner’s getting cold and, well, I've got some exciting news to share.”

“Nice house.” He remarked as we came down the hall. “Nice neighborhood too. Odd place for the Winter Lady to hold court though.”

“Oh, no, this isn't a court. This is our home. We live here together, Molly and Maggie and I. We try to keep work and our private life separate.”

He made a rumbling noise that might have been displeasure or just acknowledgment. “Hoss, if I didn't know any better I'd think you were trying to tell me that you and the Winter Lady are shacking up. That would be criminally stupid, so I know that's not what you’re trying to tell me, right, boy?” And on that note, I led him into the dining room.

“Not exactly, sir. Ebenezer, you remember Molly. My former apprentice, the current Winter Lady and,” I looked deep into her eyes and let the grin that split my face fall into my voice as well. “The soon-to-be Mrs. Dresden.”

“Possibly Mrs. Carpenter-Dresden. We haven't talked about it yet.” She teased, holding out her hand with the ring on it. “It's a pleasure to be able to see you again, Wizard McCoy.”

Ebenezer looked back and forth between the two of us like we'd been speaking a foreign language. I think he was hoping for someone to shout ‘psych’ or tell him he was on Candid Camera. “Daddy, when a lady holds out her hand like that, isn't a gentleman supposed to take it and kiss it or at least pretend to?” Maggie asked. “I thought you said it would be considered rude, especially to sidhe like Miss Molly, not to do so.”

Maggie was going to be dangerous one day. I had no doubt in my mind that she knew she was correct before she even spoke and was bringing it up to call Ebenezer out on it. She was willing to shame anyone who dared to insult us here in our own house and had furthermore opted to play to the expectation that she was a young girl, uneducated in the ways of the world. I was simultaneously horrified and proud but I played along. “Why yes Maggie, you're absolutely right. And it would be twice as rude coming from a guest who we'd offered to share a meal with.”

“Because of the rites of hop-hopsi- hospitality?” Adorable. And terrifyingly calculated.

“Exactly, but Ebenezer knows better than to insult our family like that. He's just so surprised that he forgot his manners for a second, isn't that right, Sir?”

He looked like he wanted to argue but instead, he took her outstretched hand and kissed the air over her knuckles. “Lady Molly. It’s been a while.”

It wasn’t the polite greeting I might have hoped for, but I’d take it. “And of course this is my Maggie.”

“No denying her parents, that’s for sure.” He gave a short bow. “Pleasure to meet you too, Maggie.” I wouldn’t have noticed the way he struggled to choke out her name if I hadn’t been watching for it.

Maggie looked him up and down, then over at me, then back to him. “I’m glad you came. Daddy’s very excited for your visit.” She didn’t sound nearly as excited and didn’t bother hiding it. 

“Err, right. And you've met Thomas, right?” I asked.

Ebenezer looked at my brother, his grandson, as though he hadn’t even noticed him before and wasn’t pleased to find him now. “Looks familiar.”

Thomas had shifted into the indifferent, cold act he used around strangers, his White Court persona. “Of course, I've bailed your apprentice here out of more scrapes than I can count. Oh, and you were stalking me a few years ago because you thought I'd killed him.”

“Made sense. It was your boat. It wouldn't have been your first murder. I assumed your family would have ways of disposing of the body.”

“Are your hands so clean that you feel comfortable pointing fingers, Blackstaff? We've all seen how you operate.”

“Enough,” I said, firmly but kindly. “Maybe we can refrain from discussing some subjects, like, say, corpses and who has and has not killed people around this table, until dessert at least?”

“Fine.” They both said in the exact same tone which stated that it clearly wasn’t fine but they’d go along with it anyway. I fought to hide my smile and when Molly caught it, I just winked at her. It was…probably the most awkward dinner I've ever attended. I carried most of the conversation since I was the only person at the table who didn’t get dirty looks from one or more of my table-mates when I spoke. Ebenezer was curious about what I’d been up to in the past few years. I mean, he’d already heard a lot of it by rumor, but rumors seldom match with reality. He was less forthcoming about what he’d been up to since it seemed like largely Council business (he said White, but I suspected it was more the Grey keeping him busy) and he made no secret of his reluctance to discuss it in ‘mixed company.’

“Alright, now that I’ve politely eaten your food and sat through this conversation like everything is normal, could you kindly tell me what the hell you’re playing at, Hoss?” He asked, having cleared his second plate.

“What do you mean, Sir?” I asked. Now that it had come time to tell him and Thomas the truth about each other, I was having second thoughts. Nothing that I could think to say sounded right. ‘Hey, so, this is going to sound crazy but Thomas is my brother and Ebb’s our grandpa, surprise!’ Too cavalier. But ‘Gentlemen, I’ll admit I’ve brought you both here to share some shocking news that I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you. It seems, that we are actually all related.’ Too stilted. I couldn’t find something in between that didn’t seem babble-y. Did they need to know? Maybe I should have told them individually. I was second-guessing the whole plan.

“Don’t play coy. Apparently breaking bread with the ice princess here is old hat for you now, but you can’t possibly tell me you let this incubus into your house, eating with your daughter like everything is fine every night. I know a setup when I see one.”

Molly took that opportunity to stand and start clearing the table. She didn’t say anything but I’m sure I wasn’t the only one who noticed the temperature in the room drop. Plates gathered, she disappeared into the kitchen. I winced mentally and hoped this didn’t set her off again. “I have a key. I picked Maggie up from the babysitter for him today. You haven’t even checked in on him or his kid since Chichen Itza. How would you know what was fine or normal for them?” Thomas snarled.

“You don’t even begin to know what I’ve done for him,” Ebenezer replied in kind. “You might pretend but we both know you soul-suckers don’t know anything about honor or loyalty.”

“Honor?” Thomas laughed coldly. “What would you know about honor? How many kids have you and your Council put to death? How many times have you stood by and watched, feeling superior to the rest because of the _one_ you saved? Furthermore, _Blackstaff_ , how much blood is on your hands? I might be a monster, a killer, but at least I’m honest about what I am.”

“Gentlemen,” Molly’s voice was clear and firm as she came back into the room, bearing a tray of cookies. “This is hardly appropriate conversation for the dinner table, especially with a child present.” The child in question was clinging to Mouse and looking back and forth between the two men warily. Reluctantly she removed one hand for a cookie.

Thomas leaned back in his chair and smirked at Molly. “Committed to domesticity for a few hours and you’re already turning into your mother.”

“Apples don’t often fall far from the tree,” Ebenezer grumbled, reaching for a cookie himself. It sounded like a barb against Thomas but he was looking at me when he said it. His face took on a new tension as he took a bite. “Did you make these, Harry? Or did she?”

“ _She_ has a name. And is sitting right here in front of you.” Molly huffed, returning to her seat beside Maggie. She wrapped her arm protectively around our daughter’s shoulders and Maggie leaned into it. “But Harry made them. Apparently, it’s a family recipe.”

“Of course it is,” Ebenezer confirmed, and I tensed, worried he might accidentally spill the beans. But he just said, “I didn’t know you knew any family recipes.” If his eyes were a little glassy when he said it, I looked the other way.

“What about _your_ daughter, McCoy?” Molly asked casually. I froze. Ebenezer froze. Molly ignored us both, rubbing Maggie’s shoulder. “How far from the tree did she fall?”

She was guessing. She had to be. “Molls, maybe this could wait for a better–”

“I’m not afraid to answer her question, Hoss.” Ebb interrupted. That wasn’t what I was concerned about but apparently that didn’t matter. “Sometimes she fell farther than I’d like, and sometimes not as far as I’d have hoped. I’d wager your father knows something about that himself.”

She ignored his dig at her, and coolly remarked, “She certainly fell hard and fast away from you, didn’t she?”

“Molly, that’s enough,” I said quietly.

“Of course.” She agreed, not looking one bit remorseful for what she said. “Maggie, could you hand me a napkin please?”

Maggie couldn’t quite reach the center of the table where the napkins were neatly piled in a designated holder (seemed like a waste of space to me but Molly had insisted) so Thomas handed it to her. I caught Molly’s pleased smile a second too late, just in time for Maggie to say, “Thanks, Uncle Tommy.” She glanced around the table at three paralyzed men and one very satisfied Molly Carpenter. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No, Squirt. That was just right.” Molly said. “Why don't you and Mouse take your cookies and go on into the living room? You can watch T.V. while your dad and uncle have a grown-up conversation with Mr. McCoy.”

“Thanks so much, sweetie.” I hissed between gritted teeth, once Maggie was out of earshot.

“I didn't see the point in keeping up the charade. You obviously brought them here to tell them both. Why sit through the world’s most hostile dinner party before you drop the bomb?”

“Tell us both?” Thomas asked. “I already know.”

“You already know that you and Harry share a mother. One Margaret LeFay. But that’s not her given name, is it Ebenezer?” She was careful to avoid his eyes but otherwise looked as directly as she could at my grandfather. “Before Dresden, and LeFay, she was Maggie McCoy, right?” It was gently said, a question rather than a statement or accusation and I wasn’t sure how to feel about that. This wasn’t the Winter Lady asking, just Molly Carpenter. Faerie scheming was one thing, but I didn’t understand why Molly would spring this on them.

Ebb just looked at me expectantly. Since I had no idea what to say, I kept my mouth shut. “Harry,” He said in quiet disbelief. “Are you going to sit there and let this conniving fey creature accuse your mother of fraternizing with monsters? Carrying a demon’s seed in her belly?”

I held up a hand as both Molly and Thomas started in on that statement. To my surprise, they both listened. If my face looked half as furious and terrifying as it felt, it was understandable. I made sure I had Ebenezer’s full attention before I addressed him. “I will say this once and only once, so listen very carefully. Thomas _is_ my brother. I’ve Soulgazed him to be sure. I can’t make you accept him, and if you choose to be in denial or to reject him because of the circumstances of his birth, I can’t stop you. But if you’ve got any disparaging remarks about him, keep them to yourself or get the hell out of my house.” I watched the old man set his jaw, grinding his teeth, and I continued before he decided to respond. “Molly is going to be my _wife_. You don’t have to like that. You don’t have to like her. But I love her with everything in me and I hope you’ll at least respect that. If I ever hear you call her a ‘creature’ again or if you say one more rude or hurtful thing about her, I’ll throw you the hell out of the house myself.”

“…It’s like that, huh? You'd choose these two over me?”

“You’re the only one asking me to choose which parts of my family to acknowledge.” I shrugged. “If you can't at least be civil to my brother and my fiancée for the span of one evening, that's on you. Your choice.”

Ebenezer sighed, washing his face with his hands before nodding. “Aye. I suppose you're right.”

“Of course he's right!” Molly quickly came to my defense. “I don't know how your family line has survived at all, you’re such temperamental hot heads. McCoy, don't act like you're any less desperate for family than these two. We've all seen the lengths you'll go to for Harry. Harry, go easy on him. You could have told him months ago, but you didn't. It's a lot to process. Thomas,”

“Don't rope me into this. I haven't said a thing.” He protested.

“Get yourself under control. Your eyes are practically glowing.” She started to reach out to him then thought better of it. “One monster to another, I know it sucks. But you need to meet him halfway and tone it down if you don't want to freak him out. And don't you even try to tell me you don't care.” She looked around the table. “There is a Margaret-shaped void in all of your lives. Once you know what to look for its painfully obvious. Put aside your pride and that stupid need to prove that you’re tough and independent and you don't need anyone. There's no one here but family. You don't need to keep your walls up.”

We were all silent for a moment, looking awkwardly at each other, avoiding Molly’s gaze. Finally, Ebenezer looked at me. “Is she always this bossy?” He eyed her sideways. “I've always liked a woman with fire. Didn't expect to find that in a Winter Queen.”

Molly laughed and some of the tension eased out of the room. “What can I say, your grandson’s rubbed off on me.”

“I'll just bet he has,” Thomas said with a smirk. I thumped him solidly in the chest which only made him laugh. “How is it this easy to make you blush?”

“Shut up,” I muttered. 

Ebenezer sighed again, addressing Molly. “No doubt about it, I guess. They're definitely brothers.”

“Yes, I have it on very good authority that they are.” She confirmed with a small smile.

“Well boy,” Ebb said, gruff as always. It took a second for me to realize that he wasn’t talking to me for once. “Tell me about yourself.”

I wasn’t sure how Thomas would handle being addressed as ‘boy’, but his eyes just flickered once. “You’ve watched me closely enough over the years. You know all about me.”

The old man snorted. “No, apparently I don't. Starting to think I might not know anything about anybody anymore. Don't you run away now, Hoss. You started this mess and I ain't done with you yet.” He added as I started to stand.

“Just going to check in on Maggie, Sir. I'll be right back.” I assured him. He gave me a suspicious glare but didn't stop me. I wasn’t surprised when Molly followed me out into the hall, giving Ebb and Thomas space to catch up and adjust to their new reality. “That is not how I wanted that to go,” I told her with a scowl.

She kissed each corner of my mouth as if she could wipe away the frown. To my dismay, it sort of worked. “Isn’t it? If this had gone poorly, who would you rather have your brother and grandfather angry at? You or me?”

“Me, of course. You've got enough to worry about right now without adding on grumpy wizards and vampires.” I ran my hands along her sides, hands coming to rest on her hips with my thumbs against her stomach. Did she feel different yet or was that just my imagination? How soon did that sort of thing take place? It seemed like it was probably too early. First step – research baby stuff.

Two cool hands caressed my face. “We both have plenty on our plates just now. I've got my family. You need yours too. If they needed a bad guy to blame on, a messenger to shoot, I wanted it to be me. I'll be fine if Ebenezer and Thomas don’t like me and give me the cold shoulder. But whether or not you admit it, you'd be devastated if you lost either of them. “

I leaned forward until our foreheads were touching. What could I say? She was right. I’d grown up an orphan, feeling lost and untethered in the world. That simple word, family, was like an anchor that held me in place, keeping me together. Brother. Grandfather. They'd once been distant dreams and I didn't want to go back to just dreaming. The fact that she'd thought of that, with everything else that had gone on. I hadn't even told her. She figured it out on her own and just decided to do what she could to make it easier on me. Because she always, _always_ , was thinking of me. She always had my back.

Yeah, I might be glad to have Thomas and Ebenezer in my life. But there were other words for family. Daughters. Wife. Son. And those were just as important, maybe more important. Thomas and Ebenezer were my family by circumstance. They hadn't had a choice. Now, I'm not saying they hadn't demonstrated that they cared about me. They had both saved my ass a hundred times over, been there when I needed them, given advice and support, but those were the things that made them really and truly family, not blood. And that was what made Molly my family. That's what I hoped that we would together provide to our kids. “They might be my family, but you’re my home. We're a package deal, Molls.”

“Then I guess it's good everything worked out.” Her hands found mine. “I know I should be panicking right now. And I know that none of this is possible. I mean, I’d say this is all a dream, but in my dreams there’s always some magical solution that gets us to our happily ever after, and I just don’t see how that can exist for us. I have so many questions and worries and doubts about this but…it doesn’t matter. I know this is what I was meant for. I don’t know how or why but I know this is meant to be. I can feel it in my bones.” Her eyes searched mine, as well as she could with our heads pressed together. “I’m so excited to be your wife. Mrs. Dresden.”

“Or Dresden-Carpenter,” I reminded her. “We haven’t discussed it yet.” We both laughed, knowing damn well it would be just Dresden. I didn’t care, honestly. I’d have even taken her name if she insisted (though, come on, how many Harry Carpenters did one street need?) But something told me that she’d heard “Molly Dresden” in her head too many times to settle for anything else. “We’ll make it happen, Molls. And there’s no one else I’d rather make it happen with.”

The next few hours were a little awkward but more in that first-date, adjustment period sort of way than in a truly uncomfortable, I-don’t-want-to-be-here way. Satisfied that no one was about to sling spells or feed on a life force or plunge the dining room into three feet of snow, I invited Maggie to come back out with us. She was skeptical about her great-grandfather and spent most of the evening sitting on my lap (since Ebenezer had stolen my seat, and I'd in turn stolen her seat, and while there were plenty of other seats, none of them were next to her super-cool soon-to-be step-mom) watching him warily. She still addressed him as Mr. McCoy, despite his assurance that she could call him any variation of ‘grandpa’ she'd like. He didn’t like it, but that was his problem. I believed some titles, like ‘grandpa’ needed to be earned and apparently so did Maggie. Kind of made me sit up a little straighter, carry myself a little better, every time she called me ‘dad.’

Thomas and Ebenezer were never going to be as close to each other as they were to me, but there was at least a tenuous truce, a grudging acknowledgment that maybe the other man wasn’t too horrible. It was a start. I could work with it. We broke out the alcohol, and that helped considerably. Jokes were told, stories recounted (some of which I had to cover Maggie’s ears for,) memories shared. It wasn’t Sunday at the Carpenters by a long shot, but it was the closest I’d ever come to it on my own. When it became somebody's bedtime (despite much protestation) and “Uncle Tommy” (which, ‘Tommy’? I couldn't think of a single time when anyone else had called him Tommy and I wouldn't have guessed he'd allow it, but that's what Maggie called him and he never complained) decided to call it a night as well, Molly insisted on taking a photo of the group of us with her phone. I’ve never been much for photos, especially since I usually destroy cameras by virtue of coming close to them, but I had to admit it was nice to see all three generations bunched together, smiling and happy.

Molly ushered Maggie to bed while Ebenezer and I walked with Thomas out to his car. I waved him off as he pulled out and he gave me a single-finger salute. Heat still radiated up from the pavement, but with the sun almost set and the cool breeze it was shaping up to be a beautiful night. The two of us stood side by side watching the gas guzzler my brother drives disappear down the street. “She never told me.”

“Sir?”

“We stopped talking, must have been around the time he was born, a year before at most. Margaret was always stubborn, and the more I disapproved or worried, the more outrageous the things she'd do. Willingly going to the bed of that demon-souled bastard…she said they had an arrangement, she knew what she was doing, I needed to stay out of her business. We both said a lot of things. I assumed she'd move on, come to her senses and reach out to me again. That was how she always was. But she never did.” I couldn't handle the raw pain in his words, the way he ached at the loss. I knew some of that pain myself, the hurt her absence caused, an old wound that never fully healed, but I couldn't imagine losing my daughter. I wouldn't allow myself to even start to think about it. Thinking about thinking about it made my mind reel and start descending into gibbering madness. “Was she ashamed of him? Or just too ashamed to tell me about him? How could she leave him with those monsters? No matter where he came from, he’s our blood and she left him alone in their clutches.”

“She loved him.” I softly replied. After our soulgaze, I was sure of that. “I don't think she wanted to leave him, but I don't think she had a choice. Either she escaped alone or they both stayed.”

“If she needed help she always just needed to ask. I understood her not asking for her own foolish pride but for the sake of her son...” He turned to look at me. “You listen to me right here and now. I don't care what comes between us. I don't care how stupid or dangerous the things you get involved in are. If either of you boys is ever in trouble, or that little scallywag of yours, you let me know, pride and stubbornness be damned. Family comes first, always.”

“Of course, Ebb,” I assured him, one hand on his shoulder. “Listen, I know this was a lot and it wasn't the way I would have liked to tell you but–”

“Molly’s a clever lass. Cleverer than you give her credit for. And I'd wager that was the case even before she got the ‘new job’. Not your fault or hers that she figured it out first.” He said with a shrug. He screwed up his face to spit, but it wasn’t much more relaxed afterward and his gaze held a weight when he looked at me. “It’s hard when you got something important to say and you know the person you’re telling it to ain’t gonna like it. Seems to me Ms. Carpenter may have done you a favor.”

“I've learned not to use words like ‘favor’ with Molly,” I said, smiling. “But she’s always looking out for me.”

“Heh.” He breathed. “I'm going to say something in a minute here that you aren't going to like. And I want you to understand, I wish that I didn't need to say it. Molly seems like a good girl with a decent head on her shoulders. I had my doubts about her, both when you first took her under your wing and after you were gone, but despite everything she seems steady now. She seems good for you and good for Maggie.” I tried to keep myself grounded, flexing my fists to keep them from clenching tight. I could hear the ‘but’ clear as day and was just waiting for it to hit. “But you can't marry that girl, Harry.”

“I _am_ marrying that girl. Regardless of how you feel about it.”

“Feelin’s got nothing to do with it. Whatever else she may be, she’s the Winter Lady. And the Winter Lady ain't the marrying type.” He sounded truly regretful.

“This one is.” I insisted. “Molly is my partner in all things. She’s been there for me even when–”

“I’m not saying she doesn't love you or you her but there's more to her than you know. The Winter Lady chews men up and spits them out. No matter what she wants, that's who she is, son.” If I was in a better frame of mind, I might have registered the heartbreak in his eyes complete with the knowledge that I was not going to listen to him but he had to try. I might have noted that he was speaking confidently but gently, like a doctor confirming the worst of your fears and talking about days and weeks instead of options.

But I was not in a good frame of mind. “That is NOT who she is, or at least not all she is, any more than I'm just the Winter Knight! You waltz in here after more than three years and think you know who we are? What we have?”

“I don't think I know either of you as well as I'd like anymore, but this isn't about your goddamn personalities, Hoss.” He was starting to get frustrated but he tried not to let it show. On reflection, that was more telling than anything else that he knew he was upsetting me and didn't want to. Ebenezer was not a man who often curbed his temper or watched his words. “If you can even manage to choke out your marriage vows, and I'm not sure either of you will, you still won't be able to…” He cleared his throat. “Take her to your marriage bed. Not without injury.”

I was too startled to remember to be angry. “You’re concerned that I won’t…that she won't let me… _consummate_ the marriage?”

Ebenezer looked almost as uncomfortable to be talking with me about my sex life as I was. “I'm not questioning your ability or her willingness but, marriage or not, you can't sleep with her. She's going to break any man who tries. The Winter Lady is essentially a siren. She lures men in, baits them, then at the last moment she dashes them on the rocks.”

I would have laughed, but I remembered the night when I wore the piercing and she didn’t and thought that while he was wrong, he probably had a good reason to be concerned. I shook my head. “That's not a concern for me, Sir. I assure you–”

“Assure me of whatever you want, but before you let your bits and tackle do all of your thinking, maybe you want to give your old pal Ramirez a call, ask him his thoughts on the subject.”

I did laugh that time. “I'm not calling up Carlos the Virgin to ask for advice on…” My train of thought had been chugging along, slowly but surely, and finally caught up. “His injuries…”

Ebenezer gave a grim nod. “They were working the same case from different angles. Got caught up with each other.”

The noise in my head was getting louder, and there was a growing pit of dread in my guts. “In Alaska. She said something went wrong. She didn't understand her powers yet. Carlos paid the price. It was an accident.”

“And like any story from a fairy, I’m sure that's all correct,” Ebenezer said, gripping my arm slightly, grounding me. “But did she ever tell you _how_ the accident happened? That they were alone in his hotel room? That they were in his bed when she lost control?” _Red. The feeling of her skin under my hands, her blood beating so hard through her veins I can see her pulse jump, her head rolled back in ecstasy. But it’s not my name on her lips. Not my hands on her body. Red. I'll break him myself, finish the job._ “Eeeeeasy. Easy, Harry. I know this is disappointing.”

“She slept with Carlos.” The words were hollow, and they didn’t make much more sense out loud than they did in my head. Molly was mine. She’d always been mine. She’d always hoped I’d be her first. _Red. That roguish grin looming over her, making some cocky remark despite his inexperience, ready to defile her. Red. Red. Red._

“Well, she tried. I’m not saying you can't be friends with the girl, just advising you to be cautious. It's taken Carlos years to be able to walk unassisted again. I don't want to see the same thing happen to you or worse.”

“That’s not a concern,” I said absently. Then, because the words still weren’t quite forming a sentence I understood, I repeated them. “Molly tried to fuck Carlos Ramirez. And her mantle is what stopped it.” Not her. Not him. Just the Winter Lady.

“That’s right.” Ebenezer gave me a strange look. “And, if you haven’t seen his injuries, I really think you should. It _is_ a concern. No matter how much stronger you are now, she’s–”

“Stronger. I know. We’ve gone through that. But that ship has sailed. We've been sharing a bed for the better part of a year, Sir. In all senses.” _Except in the sense of honesty or trust apparently. Except for telling each other when we almost fuck our friends in a fucking hotel room in Alaska._ I kept flashing to imagined images of her spread out on rich silk sheets, the contrast of Carlos’s bronze skin against her creamy white flesh, his lips on hers, her hands on him. Every time I blinked I saw it and my world was covered in a film of hot red surging anger.

“Oh. You…oh.” Obviously flustered, Ebenezer looked away, wringing his hands. “Well, that's…You know we heard the rumors about you two and I just thought it was all talk but Ramirez, he asked me to tell you, just in case. Said he hasn't told anyone else and he won't, but he wanted you to be safe.” _It’s the least he could do if he had planned to fuck MY Molly. My apprentice. My girl._ I thought.

Out loud I said, “I'll have to find some way to thank him.” I resisted the urge to crack my knuckles. “Anything else you or Warden Ramirez would like to tell me, while you’re at it?”

He watched me for a long time before replying. “Even I’m not a match for the Winter Queen herself, Harry. I know how you get with women, but don't forget you're a father now. If you two piss her off, it's not just you who’s going to suffer. I think you’re making a mistake marrying her.”

“Goodbye, Ebenezer.” I shook his hand with more force than I needed. “I’ll call you when we set a date for the wedding, in case you want to come watch me make the best mistake I'll ever make.”

He muttered under his breath, looking heavenward before heaving a heavy sigh. “Apples and trees, Hoss. You’d do your mother proud at every turn.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

He shook his head and headed over toward his beat-up pick-up truck. “It wasn’t a compliment. I’ll wait for your call. Try not to stir up too much trouble in the meantime.”

“You know me, Sir,” I said with a grin.

He shook his head again. “Aye, that I do boy, that I do.” I watched my grandfather drive off into the night just as I had Thomas, waiting until he was no longer in sight before I turned and paced steadily back into the house.


	3. Chapter 3

Maggie was in her room, her nightlight glowing under the closed door. Experience told me that she probably wasn’t asleep yet and that if I went in she would guiltily hide her book under her covers and I would pretend to be disappointed and tell her to put it away and go to sleep, but we both knew she’d have to at least finish her chapter first. That was good. I would do anything for my princess, but right now I was not in the mood for bedtime stories and “five more minutes.” I took a measured pace up the stairs, counting each step as I went. Molly was already in the bedroom when I closed the door behind me.

“What a long day.” She was laying on the bed, her dress and makeup still on, staring at the ceiling. “I don’t even know where to begin to….Harry? What’s wrong?” She sat up enough to see my face and blanched.

“You didn’t tell me,” I said each word carefully, slowly enunciating. It was important that she understood.

“About your mom?” I could smell fear on her like a perfume as she swung out of bed, coming to her feet. “Harry, I–”

“No.” I took a step closer. “About Carlos Ramirez.”

Her eyes went wide. “Carlos? Of course I did. I told you it was my fault.”

“You didn’t tell me you _fucked_ him!” I shouted and she flinched.

“I _didn’t_ fuck him. I told you, you were my first and my only, Harry. Carlos and I never–”

“Never planned on having sex?” I asked, stripping off my shirt and throwing it at the laundry basket. “Your mantle wouldn’t have needed to protect you from anything else.”

Molly set her jaw. “What do you want me to say? Yes, I had fully intended to go all the way with Carlos. I’m sorry that I didn’t know my restrictions and that I hurt him, almost killed him. But if you expect me to be sorry for trying to sleep with someone other than you, the one time I tried it?” She made a disgusted noise. “Less than a week before that, you told me you didn’t think we’d ever be together. And then I was suddenly saddled with a power that wants me to sleep with anything that can’t fight it’s way away from me. And Carlos appeared where I was least expecting to find someone I knew. He was a familiar face in a very confusing time. And he was warm, not like you’re warm but…I thought there was no sense in waiting forever for you if even with Winter in your veins you still wouldn’t…” She swallowed hard. “Yes, I wanted very much to sleep with Carlos and the only reason I didn’t is because Winter Law stopped me.”

I made a noise somewhere between a groan and a snarl. “So what you’re saying is I’m just a consolation prize because you couldn’t have your young pretty boy to fool around with?”

“I knew you were an idiot but even for you this is,” she scoffed. “Really something. _He_ would have been the consolation prize, moron. I settled for him because you said no. You can’t be mad about something that I _almost_ did years before we were together, and days after you turned me down for, like, the billionth time.”

“You said you were mine. You said you’ve always been mine.” I wasn’t even sure what I was saying anymore. I wanted to blame it on Winter but I knew this crazy, bitter jealousy at the thought of what she could have done, would have done, this was all me. I hadn’t required her to be a virgin. I hadn’t expected it, even. But she’d said she was and in my head, I’d thought that meant…I thought I was the only one she had ever been willing to give herself to. I felt like an idiot and anger rode on the coattails of that shame, insulating me from it.

“Harry, I _have_ always and _will_ always be yours.” She ran her fingers along my brow line, tracing my face while her eyes searched mine. “Are you…jealous? Of Carlos?” When I didn't say anything she inexplicably started smiling. “Harry, you big oaf, nothing happened for you to be jealous of, and even if it had, I would never have been his, not truly, not entirely. My heart’s belonged to you since the day I met you.”

I let out an explosive breath. “I know. I know that. It's just…” I was trying to think past the raging demon of human emotion that threatened to consume my chest and head and words were hard. “I can't stop thinking of his hands on you, knowing that he's touched and tasted you and. You know.”

“Whatever you’re imagining is probably way worse than what actually happened.” Molly paused, looking thoughtful. “Well, the sexy stuff at least. The aftermath was pretty horrific. I don't think you _can_ imagine it.” She shook her head as if she could clear the mental images. “And it's definitely nowhere near what you and I have done.” She took my hands, placing them on her abdomen as they'd been before. “I couldn’t be more yours if we tried. You have nothing to be jealous about.”

Her lips met mine and the monster inside of me was quelled, for the most part. “I'm sorry. You’re right. I don’t know what came over me, I just, I don’t like knowing that if things had been different…I don’t like the idea of someone else touching my wife.”

She’d have every right to be mad, and after the last few weeks of crazy, I couldn’t imagine how this hadn’t set her off. Maybe she was just having an easier time now that she knew what to expect? Either way, her response was just to smirk and tell me, “Maybe you should touch me yourself. Make sure your hands are the only ones I remember.”

I wanted to. I really wanted to. Not just regular wanting – I wanted to do exactly as she suggested. I couldn’t change the past, couldn’t make it so that I’d said yes that night in my car, or so that she knew she just needed to keep waiting and eventually I really would come around. But I could run my hands all over her body, wipe away the invisible stain of another man, ensure that every inch of her was completely and wholly mine. So of course what I said was, “It’s been a really long day, Molls. You have to be exhausted.”

“I’m sure you can make me find the energy.” She took hold of my hands and dragged them slowly up the curve of her body, and the dress was dragged up with them. “Come on, don’t play coy with me, Dresden. I know you want to.”

“Me? Never.” I lied with a grin as I pulled the dress over her head. “But really, we can just relax. Given your condition, I’m sure you’d rather–”

“Harry.” Any remaining items of clothing were gone. Just, _poof_ , gone. “I’m going to make this very clear to you now, and I don’t want to have to repeat it. I am pregnant. That is not a disability. It doesn’t suddenly make me more weak or fragile or delicate than I was yesterday. You remember yesterday, don't you?” I remembered a lot of things from yesterday, but in case I didn’t, she raked her fingers along my back and it felt like it was on fire. “Now, I can get in bed and touch myself thinking about what might have happened with Carlos, or you can fuck me so hard I can’t even remember my own name, let alone his. Your call.”

The jealousy was back, just as she'd intended, and this time I didn't fight it. I think she'd meant to get in bed but I had other plans. I caught her by the waist and lifted her up against me. With our bodies aligned, her legs wrapped around me, she was in the perfect position for me to have access to her neck, throat and the generous swell of her tits. I laid in with tongue and teeth, marking her as mine without any shame or pretense otherwise. The moans and sighs I coaxed out of her, loud and dizzying with her mouth so close to my ears, were pained as well as pleasured but it only made her grip me harder, writhing against me. 

The first time I cupped her ass and moved her so I could thrust inside of her, her gasp sounded surprised. But as I kept going the gasps turned to the harsh cries of need I was familiar with. “Could your pretty young Warden do this?” I teased.

She made a show of thinking about it. “Well, younger men are known for their strength and stamina, and he _is_ a fine example of – mmph – a young man.” Her impish grin told me she was joking, but it spurred me on anyway. We crashed back against the wall so hard I was surprised we didn’t leave an indent in the shape of her body.

“Did he make you moan and sigh with need?” I asked before taking one perky pink nipple into my mouth and rolling my tongue around it. Judging by her reaction, I’d say they were more sensitive in her current state.

“Are you sure you want me to answer that?” She asked between gasps. Her hands clung to my back and the pain was a hot, liquid thing that rolled through my body. I used it to fuel me as I thrust harder, deeper, rattling the artwork on the walls with our force.

“Did he make you scream his name?” I snarled.

Her eyes blazed with desire and there was an almost cruel satisfaction to her lips when she cooed, “Oh yes.”

I felt my own expression darken, my already deep voice dropping to even lower registers, thick and cold. I wrapped one hand in her hair and pulled her head down sharply to whisper in her ear, “But did he give you what you need? What you _always_ need?” I plunged as hard into her as I could go, meeting her lips roughly at the same time with my own in a tangle of tongues and wet, hot heat and soft yielding flesh. I caught her strangled cry of passion in my throat, and the world became a blur of sensation. She was moving her hips against me, grinding against me as best as she could from her perch on the wall, and it was heaven and everything was too much and not enough and then we were moving, toppling sideways into our bed in a crash of flushed skin and limbs.

We rolled and wrestled, her fingers running through my hair, my hands on her hips, her nails raking their way up my thighs, my lips on her sex. Finally, I pinned her on her belly, stretched across a great mound of blankets and pillows so that I could enter her from behind. Apparently that was the position to be in because the very first pump of my hips earned me a “Fuck, Harry!” strained and desperate for more. Followed quickly by a “Don’t stop. Fuck, don’t ever stop!” And I mean really, it’s only right for a man to listen when his Queen, his future wife, and the mother of his children makes such a well-reasoned request.

I went until I thought my body might explode from all of the built-up pressure. I’d already brought her to the edge and over and she was looking beautifully, thoroughly wrecked, clutching desperately at the sheets and making a prayer of my name mixed with half-uttered curses as I continued thrusting with a crazed fervor, not satisfied until I’d given her everything I had to give. “Did your beautiful, blushing virgin give it to you like this?”

“N-no.” She breathed. “Just you.”

“Did he make you cum with his name on your lips?”

“Mmm. Nnno. Haahhh. Oh-only you.”

“Did he claim you from the inside out?” I asked with a savage gnashing of teeth. Christ, if I held out much longer I was going to be foaming at the mouth. The next day when I’d remember this moment, I’d cringe, but in the moment of animal lust and the ridiculous jealous need to prove my superiority over that handsome bronze bastard, it felt perfectly right.

Molly looked back over her shoulder at me, her face a mess of sweat and/or tear-streaked makeup and painful aching hunger. “No. Only you.” She choked out, each breath a ragged gulp of air as she drowned in pleasure. “Please Harry. I'm all yours. Claim me!” We locked eyes, and there was something about that backward glance, the way her eyes sparkled and her smile (though perhaps a little tired) was a sensual, satisfied smirk that had me spilling myself before I even knew what hit me. I practically collapsed in a boneless, possibly even limbless heap on top of her and she just laughed softly, reaching blindly backward with her arms to stroke whatever she could reach, which happened to be the back of one thigh and the opposite hip. “I guess you really were jealous of what’s-his-name, huh?”

If it was possible to slump more dejectedly against someone when you were already their human blanket, I did. “…I’m sorry. I know I have no right to be.”

“Mmph.” She did a sort of push-up move that lifted me like I was made of helium and feathers and shifted me to the side so that she could roll over and face me. “You’re right but…” She blushed and looked away. “It’s going to sound stupid but I’m kinda glad. I mean, I knew you loved me and all that but, especially after earlier with Karrin…I was thinking that I’d never seen you that jealous over me and who I was with. Even when I used to try to make you jealous you just never noticed.”

“You weren't my fiancée back then.” I took her left hand with the sparkling diamond, kissing the knuckles on each finger.

“I wasn’t your fiancée when I seduced poor Carlos either.” She was watching me closely and there was no hiding the way my jaw tightened at her admission that _she_ had seduced _him_. “Okay, because I know you'll drive yourself insane over-thinking this: I got naked, we made out for about thirty seconds, there was some heavy petting, he got to like, second and a half base, his pants came off and the second his naked body touched mine I blacked out. We had maybe a total two minutes of high-school-level intimacy and then I apparently slashed him to pieces, broke his shin, re-broke his back and trashed his hotel room worse than a whole fleet of coked-up rock stars. I don't remember any of it.”

Any lingering jealousy was gone, instantly replaced by the crushing weight in my heart on Molly’s behalf. I'd already known she'd been nervous our first time because she knew the mantle would defend itself but now…that she'd been willing to try again at all was remarkable. The first time she tries to have sex with someone he pours a pitcher of ice water on her. The second time she blacks out and almost kills the guy. Stars and stones. If I'd known that I'd have definitely gone slower, given her time to adjust and make sure everything was alright. How scared had she been that first night when I'd laid my hand on her thigh, asked her to give herself to me? And I’d been too busy thinking with my dick to notice. How much else had I missed, not just in the last few months with her but over the years? How many other scars did she bear that I'd still never seen? “You should have told me.” I squeezed her hand.

“I'm sorry. I didn't say anything because, well, it's really cringe-worthy, you know? I mean, there's embarrassing sex stuff and then there's ‘too horny to bother checking if you're going to try to kill a guy if you sleep with him’. Plus, I didn't make a pass at him because I wanted him. I made a pass because he was there. If it hadn't been him, it would have been the next unsuspecting male who looked my way. It wasn't important. It wasn’t real like you are.”

“It wasn't your fault. You know that, right?” I ran my hand along her side, tracing the curve of her body. “You had no reason to think that what happened would happen. I mean, Maeve acted like she slept with everyone and everything. Why would you assume anything different?”

“Are you lecturing me to not blame myself for something I accidentally did, purely because I didn't know all of the facts of the situation?” She arched an eyebrow.

“I told you before, I'm a do as I say not as I do kind of teacher, Grasshopper,” I assured her with a wink.

“Whatever you say, Boss.” She laughed when I groaned low in my throat. “I'm not sure you should make noises like that around your impressionable young apprentice, _Boss_.”

“Probably shouldn't kiss her like this either.” I murmured, punctuating the sentence with a slow and sensuous kiss. “Definitely shouldn't kiss her like this.” I caught her mouth with mine again, my tongue between her teeth, tasting her.

“And what about marrying her?” She asked with a radiant smile.

I grinned back. “Obviously that's out of the question. Highly inappropriate. Almost as inappropriate as knocking her up or something.”

“Can you keep a secret?” She asked in a faux whisper. I chuckled but nodded. “Inappropriate or not, I'll do _anything_ to be the teacher’s pet.”

“Is that right?” I smirked. “I'm not sure I'm in the market for a pet right now, Ms. Carpenter.”

“Damn.” She traced a line down my chest with one fingernail. “Well, I'm at least going to try for some extra credit then.” I shook my head and rolled my eyes, but that didn't make it any less effective. A minute prior I'd have said there was no way I had anything left in me to give but she was _very_ persuasive and Winter was always ready to go. By the time we finished, we were both exhausted and grinning ear to ear, doped up on endorphins and the blissful pleasure of each other’s company.

“There might. Be an opening. For teacher’s pet. After all.” I panted between breaths. Molly curled up against my chest, her left hand with the ring settled right over my heart.

“Eh, I’d rather be the teacher’s wife, now that I’ve had time to think about it.”

“Its a done deal.” I agreed, wrapping an arm around her. “What a day.”

“Probably going to be saying that a lot soon.” She snuggled in closer and I held her tighter, kissing the top of her head.

“Well, I think we both went into this knowing our relationship would be exciting. Can’t say we haven’t delivered.” Even that wasn’t enough to ease the tension that had formed in every muscle of her body, and I couldn’t blame her. Just thinking about what the next few months might bring had me on the verge of panicking. “We’ll be fine, Molls. All of us. I promise.”

She made a strangled noise. “Shut up, you can’t promise that!”

I lifted her chin until her eyes, angry and fearful, met mine. “I promise we will find a way to give you the life you want and deserve. I _can_ promise it because there is nothing in this world or any other that will stop me from trying. For you. For our kids. And for myself. I want this life with you more than I've ever wanted anything, and we _will_ make it happen, guaranteed.” I kissed her before she could turn away, sealing my promise to a Queen of Faerie to solve several very large, daunting problems and I couldn't care, because she was mine and no matter who or what she was, I would give her the world or die trying.

“Idiot.” She sighed. “We need a game plan, what to do when she finds out, how to respond. We need to figure out what happens now with my mantle, and how to stop it from upsetting the balance. If we’re going to be selfish and stupid we need to at least do everything we can to make sure we inconvenience everyone else as little as possible. I don’t even know where to start though.”

“Mm. Do you want to use the office as a nursery or do we need to start looking for a larger house?”

Molly blinked slowly at me. “Uh. I guess, let's convert the office? We don't really use it. But isn't that a little cart/horse?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, we’ve got like, 7 months to figure out where the baby’s going to sleep, but I don’t think we’ll be lucky enough to have that long before we have to figure out how to stop The Queen from killing us, and how to prevent a massive apocalypse-inducing imbalance in power from taking place.”

“You’re right. But I don't have a solution to any of that. I don't even have enough information or understanding of the situation to begin to come up with a solution to any of that. I'll need to do research and that's going to take time and I'm not starting it at 11:30 at night on one of the longest 24 hour periods of my entire life. So in the meantime, let's solve what we can solve.”

“And what _can_ we solve?”

“All the really important stuff. Like, when should we get married?”

I could see her fighting not to smile. I could imagine her lecturing herself that she should be worried about our future, the burdens of both her mantle and our duty to protect our city and home weighing heavily on her, and she wasn’t wrong. But nothing was going to be accomplished on those fronts tonight and we both knew it. She lost the battle with herself and gave a breathy laugh. “How do you always make everything seem so simple?” Molly shook her head slightly. “We’re getting married midday June 21st.” It was my turn to blink in surprise. I hadn't expected her to have an answer readily available and I had assumed she'd want more than…stars and stones, just over two weeks to plan it. “It's the summer solstice. When Winter is at its absolute weakest in this hemisphere. The Queen will have her attention on the other half of the globe and the grips of our mantles should be weaker here as well. Probably the best time to make a decidedly not-Wintery oath to each other.”

I stared at her for a moment. “You're brilliant. I’m so glad I’m marrying you. That makes perfect sense. But are you sure that’s enough time? I mean, power is still swinging in Summer’s favor for a while and, if you do it right you only get one wedding. Don’t you want at least a month or two to plan?”

“I have waited long enough for you. I don’t want to wait any longer.” She looked away guiltily. “Also, if we wait much longer my parents will be _really_ concerned about how ‘early’ their first grandchild is going to be born. As it stands, assuming he’s born on time, they’ll already think he’s, y’know, like, two months early.”

“…I’m just going to throw this idea out there because I feel like it needs to be said. Wouldn’t the better way to ease their concerns be to just not lie to them?” This suggestion was met with an ‘are you stupid?’ look. “I mean, we can wait until after the wedding. And you don’t have to outright say when you got pregnant, just, y’know, when they ask when you’re due don’t lie. They probably won’t even do the math.”

“You think Charity Carpenter won’t do the math to see whether her constant disappointment daughter conceived on or before her wedding night?” Molly asked flatly. “It’s the first thing she’ll do.” She pushed her hair back from her face roughly then returned her hand to my chest. “I’m already not human, marrying someone who is not only not Catholic but a freakin’ wizard old enough to be my dad, and I’m not going to be mentioning the Lord at any point in my marriage ceremony. Adding that, not only did I not wait until marriage for sex but I didn’t wait until marriage to get pregnant? My father might die on the spot just so he can roll over in his own grave. I can’t do that to them, Harry. I’ve already put them through enough.”

Honestly, I was pretty sure Charity and Michael would be too excited at the prospect of being grandparents to get too upset at her, especially if we were at least already married when we told them. Sure there might be some lecturing, maybe even some tears, but they both wanted her to be happy more than anything and they’d have to know this would make her happy. (It _would_ make her happy, right? Yeah, of course. Don’t overthink this, Harry.) But Molly clearly wanted to avoid the lectures in the first place and I couldn’t blame her. “…Maybe we can just tell them that sidhe pregnancies are accelerated.”

“Yes! That’s perfect!” Her apparent relief was short-lived. “Wait, _is_ gestation shorter for fae? Or longer? Or…weirder in some way?”

“This might shock you, dear, but until today I’ve never felt the need to research the typical pregnancy of the _human_ female, let alone fairies. I suspect if it was significantly different it would have come up at some point in my regular research about the Courts and our mantles, but it's worth looking into.”

She nodded but still looked a bit shell-shocked. “Yeah, Sarissa would have probably mentioned it too. I'm probably fine. Just a normal pregnancy. Just a tiny little lifeform growing inside of me...totally dependent on me to survive...sharing my resources and pushing aside my organs and distending my entire body as he grows...before forcing his way out of a very narrow hole in one of the most sensitive parts of my anatomy in what women everywhere universally describe as the most painful experience of their lives. Just um. Just that.” Her eyes had taken on that too-wide, too-wild look that horses get right before they rear up on their hind legs and bolt.

I didn’t want to say it but for her sake, I needed to. “…It’s not too late to change your mind. It’s a lot to ask and you’re still young. I won’t love you any less if you decide that you don’t want another kid or if you want to wait.” Molly’s eyes started welling with tears but she said nothing. “No one but you and I would know. You don’t have to worry about what anyone else will think.”

She stared up at me for a long time, tears rolling down her face, clinging to her eyelashes and the lines around her mouth, dripping off her chin. I held her tight, hurting and scared for her. I hadn’t planned on having another child before today, partly because I’d “known” it wasn’t possible for Molly and partly because I was happy with our family as it was. It just wasn’t something I’d given much thought to. But the way Molly had talked about it before, I got the feeling she’d given a lot of thought to it. I’d seen the way her expression turned bitter when she mentioned her inability to have kids. But now that it was real, that didn’t mean she was ready for it. I knew enough to know it would be hell on the body and more importantly, to know that being a parent changes you, shifts the whole focus of your world to this new little person, makes everything else seem unimportant, including yourself. I wouldn’t have changed a single thing about being Maggie’s dad (except doing it sooner) if I could, but I had to recognize that I had given up the man I used to be to become the man she needed. More literally than most people, but the point stands. I couldn’t fault Molly if she wasn’t ready for that kind of change, if she wasn’t willing to let herself be reformed into someone new. Especially since I wasn’t the one who’d have to go through the sickness and stretch marks and childbirth.

So I held her close and let the lifeline dangle there in case she wanted to take it. But I won’t pretend I wasn’t relieved when she finally shook her head. She seemed past words so I just kissed her forehead and nodded. “Okay. As long as that’s what you want. I just wanted you to know I’d stay right here, even if you changed your mind.”

“…I’m scared.” She admitted. I was again struck by how young she was, my blue-eyed bride, vulnerable and trembling despite the mantle of god-like power she held. “I’m really, really scared, Harry. There’s so much that can go wrong even without the fairy stuff and even if it all goes right...I’m trying to just be excited but I’m so scared.”

“Of course you are, Molly,” I said as gently as I could. “It’s scary. Even ignoring all of the fate of the world and murderous fairy queen drama. But I'll be right here. We’ll get through this together. And I promise it will be worth it.”

“There you go making promises again.” She teased, snuggling in closer against me. “I know it will. Your wife. My husband. Our son. Nothing could ever be more worthwhile. I’m sorry, I don’t want to sound like I’m not happy or excited or like I don’t want to get married or start a family with you.”

“I get it. You don’t need to explain or justify anything.” I yawned and kissed the top of her head again. “I’m exhausted. Why don’t we just go to sleep for now? Maybe all of this will be less daunting in the light of day, with fully functional brains.”

“Is sleep really all you'll need for that?” Molly nuzzled against me. “Actually, if you don’t mind, I’m going to shower. I'll come back to bed in a bit.”

“Mm. You want me to join you?” I murmured, face buried in her hair just breathing in the scent of her. When she laughed, she jiggled against me in all kinds of interesting ways.

“I think I should be able to wash myself, thanks.” She rolled over and slipped out of bed in one smooth, fluid motion. “Besides, someone really tore you up yesterday. You sure you want soap and water in all those cuts and claw marks?”

It wouldn’t have deterred me if she’d said yes, but sleep was beckoning and I was a little relieved she’d said no. “On second thought, maybe I’ll just stay here and keep the bed warm for you.”

“You do that, ya big goof.” She leaned down to kiss me. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” I closed my eyes and I was down for the count almost as soon as I heard the water start running. I did not sleep restfully.

I opened my eyes and the sight was uncomfortably familiar. The hilltop. A crumbling lighthouse. The sounds of Lake Michigan lapping at the rocky cliffs ahead. It was dark, but the sky overhead held too many stars for the human eye. That was not as familiar. In dream logic, I knew I was going to go into the lighthouse, down the stairs and into the halls of crystals. Dread sat on my chest like a night hag, clawing out any hope or happiness that might have followed me into dreamland and I didn’t know why, but I had a feeling that I had a very good reason for it. It seemed as though the stairs stretched on forever, longer and deeper than they did in waking life, and I started running down them faster and faster, spiraling lower and lower into the depths of the earth beneath Demonreach. “STOP!” Alfred’s voice boomed and I did as he’d commanded. I might be the warden, but he was my security and I’d be a fool not to listen. I felt his presence beside and behind me, and when I looked up one long limb was pointing to the side. “THERE.”

A door. Had there been a door like that before? If so I’d never seen it. It looked like something off of an ancient submarine, a giant wrought-iron monstrosity straight from the pages of Jules Verne with mist pouring off of it in waves. Mist? Was there normally mist here? Or fog? Or whatever this was. There was a small circular window, the glass frosted over, and I had to breathe on it and wipe with the sleeve of my…robes? I was wearing thick, fur-lined robes. I wiped hard at the glass until I’d cleared enough space to peek through and…

My heart stopped beating. My breath froze in my chest. I was staring into the heart of a blizzard, a raging storm, narrowed down to two points of burning blue light. Eyes. I was looking into something’s eyes, totally devoid of rational thought or humanity. But I recognized them all the same. “That's…”

“GRASSHOPPER.” He confirmed, solemnly. He hadn’t needed to. She'd pulled away from the door enough for me to see her, and I wished she hadn't. Her body was, well, sunken is the only way I can describe it, the bones standing out beneath taut, blue-white skin. Her face was pinched, haggard, her lips a shade of purple so dark it was almost black, and those terrible eyes were haunting. A hurricane of snow and ice swirled around her, deadly and beautiful.

“No. That's the Winter Lady. Doesn't look like my Grasshopper is home anymore.” I put one hand against the glass and though I couldn't hear her I could see her scream in rage. It seemed to be all she wanted to do. “What happened?”

“NECESSARY. CONTAINED.”

“…I went to sleep. I remember going to sleep. This is just a dream. This isn’t real. Right?” I looked up at the massive figure above me. “Right?” I prompted when he didn’t respond.

He seemed to consider this question, which was not something he often did. I waited while the silence stretched out between us. “NOT REAL.” I breathed a sigh of relief. “NOT YET.” Oops. Guess I sighed too soon.

I didn’t need to ask what he meant. I knew. I wasn’t here, Molly wasn’t locked in my prison, not yet. But that didn’t mean this was a dream either. “What can I do? How do I save her?”

“FORGIVE. REMEMBER. BELIEVE.”

“Believe what?” I asked, irritably. It wasn't his fault that we couldn't communicate more clearly. Alfred was not used to thinking in words or communicating with humans. But that didn't make it less frustrating. “Remember what?”

“YOURSELF.”

“Remember myself? Believe myself? What are you, a self-help book? I’m comfortable with who I am. How does this eat, pray, love crap save my fiancée?”

Alfred shook his head sadly. “REMEMBER, HARRY. HARRY.”

“Harry. Harry?” Alfred’s voice morphed into Molly’s, echoing in my head until I blinked myself awake, in the cool darkness of our bedroom.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: I have blatantly ignored a WOJ. I don't think it's universe-destroying that I've done so, and since this is an AU anyway, I was willing to do it, but if I were reading someone else's fic and they decided to contradict WOJ directly I'd want to at least know so I could prepare myself to not get my obsessive nerd panties in a bunch about it. More thoughts on this in my post-chapter notes.

“Hey, Harry, you okay?” I was curled in the fetal position, drenched in sweat and Molly was bent over me, wearing a long black dress, one hand on my shoulder.

“Yeah.” My voice came out dry and hoarse. I cleared my throat and sat up into a more dignified position, washing my face with my hands. “Yeah, just uh, bad dreams or something.”

“Okay, …you just seemed…but you’re okay, now?” She asked hesitantly.

“I’m fine, Molls,” I assured her. Now that I was a little more alert, I took in the lines of worry etched across her face, her eyes scanning me for signs of injury or illness, looking everywhere but at my face while she chewed at her bottom lip. “Are _you_ okay?”

“Mmm.” It was a noise of consideration. “For now. Remains to be seen in the long run.” She started picking at one of her fingernails. “We, uh. We have a houseguest. Someone you need to talk to.”

“It’s…what time is it?”

“Half-past one, I think. Maybe two? It doesn’t need to be tonight, she can wait until morning. I told her you were asleep.”

_Not anymore._ I thought, irritably. “Who?”

“I can't say. _Can't_ Harry.” She added when I opened my mouth to argue. Damn.

I growled in frustration. “And I don't suppose you can tell me what we need to talk about either?”

She shook her head, staring at her hands. “I’ve tried to say as much as I can, but it’s not enough. You need to talk to her.”

I sighed, pinched the bridge of my nose, rolled my neck and heaved myself to my feet. At least I'd gotten an hour-ish of crappy sleep. I'd gone to face mysterious strangers on less before, I'm sure. “Human, sidhe, what am I dealing with?”

“…Wizard. But it can wait til morning. Why don't we just–”

“One, you brought a wizard into our home, where Maggie is sleeping, and left her unattended. Maybe you trust her, but since you can't tell me anything about her, I don't. Two, you are obviously stressed about me meeting this woman, and I’m not going to just go back to sleep knowing you’re upset. Stress isn’t good for you or the baby.”

That drew a wan smile. “He’s just going to have to tough it out. I don’t see myself getting _less_ stressed over the rest of this year.” I’d thrown on a t-shirt and jeans while we spoke, and Molly came to stand in front of me, smoothing the shirt out as though it mattered whether my faded Evil Dead t-shirt had wrinkles or creases. It honestly worried me more than anything she'd said or done so far because I recognized the gesture. It was what a woman did when she had no idea how else to help, and it usually preceded the long goodbye kiss and phrases like ‘be careful’ and ‘come home safe’. Molly was sending me off to some kind of battle and wasn’t sure how I’d fare.

“I don't entirely trust her, and neither should you, but I trust her for this. I've been keeping way too many secrets from you and I know how much you hate that and this…Harry, it's not okay. I know it's not okay. I know that doesn’t make anything better. Maybe it makes it worse. If you'll give me a chance, I'll explain why I did it anyway, but if you don't want to hear it, if you want to walk, if you want the ring back, if you…however you feel, I understand.”

“Molls, come on,” I said with a half-laugh. “We've been over this. I don't like it but I understand. Whatever this mysterious visitor has to say, I'm still all in. There is nothing you could do to drive me away after everything we've been through.”

“Maybe you're right.” I wanted so badly to know what she was thinking, from the pained, tight-lipped smile to the way my breath was starting to fog just from being near her. “I hope you're right. But if there was ever going to be something, this would be it. I don't want to tell anyone else about the engagement or the baby or any of it until I know for sure that I haven't messed up so bad there's no coming back and we can't know until you've seen her and talked to her.”

I’d be lying if I said she wasn’t starting to seriously worry me too. Maybe she was blowing it out of proportion. She’d thought I would leave when I found out what her duties entailed but I hadn’t even been close. Maybe this was one of those things. But…had I been honest? Was there really _nothing_ that would be a deal-breaker for me? I’d thought that before and it turns out ‘trying to make me a thrall to our adoptive father then letting me think I’d killed you for years while you hid out in Faerie’ and ‘not letting me know we had a kid together until you let her get kidnapped by vampires’ were both sticking points. Who’d have thunk it? And Molly had a lot more power than either of them. A hell of a lot more. Which meant a lot more opportunity to do something reckless, horrific and/or immoral.

Then again, let he who hath not assaulted a friend with lethal force over petty, stupid jealousy in the last 24 hours cast the first stone. “Then come on, let’s get this over with so you can be sure.”

“…” Molly hesitated. “I don't think I should be there. It's…it’s safer if I'm not there.”

I froze halfway to the door. “Because you think I might react badly and hurt you?”

“I think you might react badly and try to hurt me, yes.” She hedged. “But I also think _I_ might react badly. I'm not exactly stable right now and…” She gripped her hair with a frustrated growl. “Harry, I'm using like, ugh, I don't even know how many loopholes and doing constant mental gymnastics to deal with everything we’re doing and to make this happen at all. Just, please trust me when I say it's better for everyone involved if you talk first, okay?”

What else could I say? “Okay.” I ran one hand through my hair, half irritation, half to put it into some semblance of order. You show up unexpected at my house in the middle of the night, you get what you get, but I wasn’t sure what I was walking into and I didn’t want to look like, well, like I’d just woken up and rolled out of bed. Even if I wasn’t on my A-game, I didn’t need whoever the hell I was about to ‘talk’ with to know it. “Then how are we doing this?”

“You’re sure you don’t want to wait til the morning?” She asked half-heartedly. I let my stern expression answer and she nodded to herself. “Downstairs. In the living room. She’ll probably be veiled but if you tell her I sent you to talk she should drop it.”

“Stars, a veiled wizard in our living room? What, she was just going to crash on the couch?”

“I’m not sure if she planned on sleeping. She doesn’t sleep much and she’s, well, you’ll understand. But yeah, crashing on the couch was the general plan.”

“In our living room?” It was said too harshly, but it was unacceptable. “What if Maggie had gotten up before us in the morning and gone to watch TV?”

“Hence the veil,” Molly replied, her own voice heated. “Just, either go back to bed and give me one more night with you or go downstairs and get this over with, please. I’m starting to lose it here.”

“I’m going downstairs. I’m going to talk to your wizard, send her packing, and then you and I are going to go to sleep, together, so that we can have a better start to our morning than this one. Okay?”

“At least you didn’t wake up puking.” She quipped, taking both of my hands in hers. “And she’s not my wizard. _You’re_ my wizard.” She didn’t actually say ‘for now’ out loud but her eyes were screaming it, brimming with tears and scanning my face as if she needed to memorize it. I pressed my lips to hers, gentle but lingering. When we finally pulled apart I caught her gaze with mine.

“I know this is going to sound crazy, given who I’m talking to, but please try not to worry. I'm not going anywhere, no matter what. I pr–”

“No!” The word exploded out of her with so much force she seemed to rock back. “No. Don't promise. If you decide to stay I want to know that you did it because you wanted to, not because you had to.”

“I’ll always stay because I want to, Molly,” I said gently, wiping the few shed tears off her cheeks. “You know me. I’d never let anyone put me in a cage. If I didn’t want to stay, I wouldn’t. But I always, always, always want to stay with you.”

“You could stay with me now. We could forget all of this. It’s a stupid idea anyway.”

“I thought you said I needed to talk to your mystery woman.”

“You do.” She buried her face against my shoulder so her words were muffled. “But I’m selfish and I’m so scared of losing you. If you don’t want to talk to me or see me again after this, I deserve that. I’m just not ready to give you up.”

I took a step back with a firm grip on her shoulders. “Molls, listen to me. You’ve always trusted me before, I need you to trust me now. We will be fine. Whatever it is you’ve been keeping from me, no matter how angry or disappointed or whatever you think I’m going to be, we will get past it.” I brought her left hand to my lips, kissing just below her ring. “I’ll be right back.”

For a second, Molly looked like she was going to stop me but finally, she hugged herself and nodded and I left before I changed my mind. I moved down the stairs on light feet, intent on making no sound. While I moved I allowed myself to speculate who I might be meeting. Or remeeting, now that I thought about it. Molly had specifically avoided the word meet. We needed to talk, she'd said. But not, ‘you two should meet.’ I slipped into the hall and felt like I was painting a bulls-eye on my back as I passed the open doorway to the living room. I knew a lot of female wizards between the Council and the Paranet, but how many of them would have reason to deal with the Winter Lady? Most were either powerless enough to be of no use to the fey or smart enough to avoid them. I snatched up my blasting rod but decided to leave my staff in the umbrella stand. I couldn’t grab my duster from the coat closet without making noise and I was hoping to avoid that. Not anyone from the Council. No one from the Council would get involved in Winter business. And then it hit me. I knew who I would find.

I didn’t know why or how she was involved, but a female wizard that I knew, one with a history of dealing with fae, someone who was used to keeping secrets and who might be willing to tell me information that Molly couldn’t, someone we shouldn’t trust but who could at least be trusted to crash on my couch without bothering us or harming my daughter, someone who had come into our house without Mouse busting down the door to attack her, now that I thought of it. Of course I knew who it was. I stood in the doorway to the living room and let enough power into the blasting rod for the runes to glow in the darkness. “Alright, show yourself. Don’t make me do this the hard way.” I was met with silence. “Come on, I know you’re there, Elaine. Molly sent me down here to talk so just–”

The wizard dropped her veil and my stupid mouth stopped making noise and just hung gaping. Well shit. My mystery visitor sure as hell wasn’t Elaine. And I suddenly knew exactly why Molly was so worried about what she was hiding. And who.

When I found my voice again, I said, “It’s a little early for Christmas in July, so I’m guessing this isn’t Kringle’s doing.” For the second time in my adult life, my mother stood in front of me, apparently alive and in the flesh and all I could think was _Maybe Molly was right to be worried._

“No. No, if it’s anyone’s doing its Molly’s.” She agreed. It was strange. I mean, obviously everything about my dead mom standing in my living room at 2 in the morning saying my fiancée’s name despite the fact that, up until a minute ago I would have sworn that the two weren’t even alive at the same time let alone on a first-name basis, was strange. But hearing her voice was surreal. I had heard it a hundred times as I traversed the Ways, navigating using the notes she’d recorded in her gem, but hearing it out loud, not just in my head, I had to remind myself to focus. My mind was pretty much screaming nonsense at me and a thousand questions sprang to my lips and fought over which was going to come out and I felt like I was about to burst apart at the seams. So I shut it off, fell back on the familiar, the routine, and switched into P.I. mode.

“I take it you two have met before?” Question one in the case of ‘stars and stones my mom is alive and I'm talking to her and what the hell is going on here?!’

She screwed up her face, looking away. “Yeah. We’ve met.”

“Are you…real? I mean, obviously you’re real but, are you really, y’know, alive?” Smooth, Harry.

“Not for long if you keep pointing that thing at me.” She nodded to my (now smoking) blasting rod. “Maybe you want to put that away and we can talk?”

I lowered it but kept a firm grip. “Maybe. But not here. Maggie’s asleep and I don't want to wake her. Come on.”

I started toward the lab and she followed but, to my surprise, stepped ahead of me and kept going. “Never turn your back on a stranger. If you don't trust them with your life, don't give them the opportunity to take it.”

“Are you saying I can't trust you, ma-Margaret?” It felt weird to call her mom. And weird to call her Margaret. And weird to call her anything, really.

“I know your grandfather taught you better than that, boy. Of course you can trust me, and I hope with time you will, but you shouldn't yet. I've given you no reason to. You don't even know for a fact that I'm really me.”

“Are you?” I asked.

“If I wasn’t, would I be likely to tell you?” She looked back over her shoulder at me and I learned that Thomas got his smirk from our mother. I gestured to open the door to the lab and ushered her through in silence. “Mother's breath, look at this place. Are you two Bond villains?”

“I like to think of it more as our Bat Cave.” I relocated a stack of books from my desk chair to the floor and pushed it awkwardly toward her, sitting on the edge of the worktable opposite her. I was careful not to lean too far back and disrupt Little Chicago. “Soooo.” I gripped the edge of the table with my hands, suddenly feeling unsure of what to do with them and terribly self-conscious. I should have at least combed my hair, right? And how long had it been since I shaved? I must have looked scraggly by then. Since she didn’t seem to be forthcoming with information, I prompted, “Why don’t we start at the top. You’re supposed to be dead.”

“I hear the same is true for you,” Margaret replied with a small smile. She shifted, crossing her legs and folding her hands in her lap. I hadn’t given much thought to what my mother would look like back from the dead, but if I had I’d have been wildly off. Physically she was the same as she’d been at Christmas but now, in the light of the lab, she looked…wild. Her eyes danced with light and her body had a lean, tensed look, like a viper about to strike at any sudden movement. She was wearing what I suspected was one of my old t-shirts and what was definitely a Charity-sewn broom skirt. “Yes. My understanding is that I died over 40 years ago, the night you were born. I don’t remember dying. I don’t remember giving birth. The last thing I remember is kissing Malcolm goodbye before he left for his show and settling in to sleep, wrapped in blankets and very pregnant. The next memory I have is of the Leanansidhe dragging me in chains before Queen Bitch of Winter herself and 40 years had gone by.”

I grunted. “That must have been jarring, coming to in the Winter Court with selective amnesia.”

Her smile grew sly. “Very selective amnesia, yes. Specifically curated to keep me from implicating myself or Lea during our interrogation.” She sighed. “Settle in, Harry. We've got a lot to catch up on.”

Margaret LeFay was an excellent storyteller and she had an excellent story to tell. Though she couldn't remember the details, she had pieced together what had likely happened. She'd made enemies, a lot of enemies. And she'd made allies that were almost as dangerous to combat them – namely the Winter Court. She'd been a radical, advocating changes to Winter Law (which I was surprised to find she was better versed in than I was) but staying on the Queen’s good side as much as possible. When she met my father, everything changed. She didn't want to drag him into her messes. She didn't want to change the world, because change is messy and people get hurt. She just wanted to settle down, live as close to a normal life as she could.

“But that’s easier said than done.” I acknowledged.

“Right you are.” She agreed. “Every time you think you’re out, someone finds a way to drag you back in. Whether it’s enemies that track you down or allies that just need ‘one last favor’ or some damn self-fulfilling prophecy. You know how it is, I'm sure.”

“I’ve never made the mistake of thinking I was out, I just play defense instead of offense now that I have Maggie. But yeah, I know how it is.”

So she'd been dragged back time and again. When dad started talking marriage and kids, she was thrilled to give him everything he wanted, her sweet normal man. If she could please Mab and Lea by ensuring that her next child was a starborn, designed from conception to combat outsiders, while still getting what she and her husband wanted anyway, well that was just a happy bonus. I didn’t have time to process the disturbing thought that Mab had been influencing my life before I was even conceived and filed that away with a hundred other things under ‘things to lose my mind about later’ while she continued. But things grew worse and worse. There were close calls, times when her past caught up, nipping at her heels and threatened her husband or her yet-to-be-born me, and no matter what she tried she knew she couldn't shield us forever. As long as she was alive, we'd be in danger. So she concocted a plan.

The details were fuzzy, but shortly before I was born she made a deal with Mab. She’d serve her for a year and a day in exchange for power of some kind, she guessed for Winter’s blessing. Later that day, or the next, she’d gone into labor and contacted the Leanansidhe. She left Lea with instructions for taking care of Thomas and me, made a deal with her to protect me and in exchange she offered 40 years as a hound. Now, faking her death wasn’t going to be enough for most of her enemies so she’d have to do the real thing. And if she was going out, she wasn’t going out quietly. She had to have felt the malocchio coming for her, and she knew who had sent it. She’d known he would send it eventually anyway and she didn’t hide. She put all of the power she had into crippling Lord Raith, in the hopes that doing so would protect Thomas, maybe put someone less insane on the throne of the White Court. Any of his older siblings would have protected him, surely, and kept him safe from the demon inside of him.

“Don’t give me that look.” She chided. “I know it didn’t work out that way. I should have tried to disfigure him as well, maybe. Then they would have known sooner what I had done. It’s hard to think clearly when you’re alone, in labor, and know you’re about to die, okay?”

I was relieved I didn’t have to be the one to tell her at least. So she cast her death curse out to Lord Raith with her dying breath, hoping she’d done enough to protect her loved ones. But of course, there were still debts to be paid. Margaret LeFay owed the Leanansidhe 40 years as a hound and they’d said nothing about death stopping it. So, my mother had given the power she’d received from Mab to Lea and Lea had brought her back to fulfill their contract. Lea reported news of her death to my father when he came to claim me and to Mab when she returned to Arctis Tor, conveniently leaving out the finer details of what state Margaret was in after her death.

Once their contract was fulfilled, Lea allowed her to regain her humanity and gave her a few days to re-acclimate to sentience before hauling her off to Arctis Tor. “The Queen had been looking for me. I must not have been careful enough. The Leanansidhe had to be complicit because she'd never have managed to get me in chains without my cooperation and everyone in that room knew it. I...was perhaps more arrogant than the situation warranted in hindsight. After all, she couldn't kill me, right?” Her face twisted bitterly. “She was set to do it anyway, me and Lea. But to my surprise, Molly interceded on our behalf. I never thought I'd live to see a Winter Lady advocating for a nonviolent resolution.”

“Molly’s certainly reinventing the position, that's for sure,” I mumbled.

“With no small amount of help from you I hear, eh?” I found my face and neck growing warm from the way she grinned knowingly at me. “Not so much a lady anymore.”

“She uh, she told you that, huh?” I was trying not to lose my temper but it wasn’t going too well. “Hasn’t even told her own parents yet. You two must be really close.”

“Well, she's been my jailer for almost a year. But she's saved my neck at every turn so I guess we're about even.” My mother shrugged as if any of this was normal or sane or acceptable. _I know it's not okay_. Molly had said. No, it really wasn’t. “We're getting off track. She wanted me to explain everything from the beginning until now. So, back in October we–”

“October. Last October?”

“Right. So, back in October, the Queen asked Molly what to do with Lea and me. I'm sure it was a test, knowing the old broad. When Molly told her we were of more use alive than dead, she made us her charges and told her to ‘find out the truth.’ It wasn't my first rodeo so I was expecting the full interrogation routine, strung up by my toes in a dungeon and so on.” I thought about the night before, hanging by my wrists at Molly's mercy, thinking it wasn’t her first time and my stomach churned. Had she honed those skills torturing my mother? I didn’t want to ask and thankfully she spared me the need with a short laugh. “Instead, she started planning out how to efficiently remove our memories of any, let’s say ‘less than honest’ acts we may have committed. See, she knew that traitors and oath breakers are put to death by Winter Law. No exceptions, no avoiding it. And she somehow got it in her head that maybe the Winter Knight would take exception to her sentencing both his mother and his godmother to death in one blow. But she had to interrogate us by direct order. So she got clever.”

I swore. Clever wasn’t the word I’d use. “And used black magic to manipulate you into–”

“Relax. No Laws were broken, _warden_.” It looked like the word tasted foul in her mouth. “Not that you have any room to complain. How dare you ask that little girl to break a Law for you and then just leave her here? That’s terrible mentoring, to say the least!”

If I kept blinking in surprise like this my eyes were going to get stuck that way. “Uh. I know, it was wrong to ask but–”

“YOU'RE DAMN RIGHT. Do you know how much you hurt her? I have half a mind to tan your hide for even thinking it. I swear…” This went on for some time and though I was ashamed of my behavior and felt suitably chastised some part of me couldn't help but note that this was my actual mother in front of me. I might be a fully-grown adult with kids of my own, but for the first time in my life, I was being lectured by my mom. “Are you smiling at me, boy?”

“No, ma'am.” I lied, fixing my expression to look suitably ashamed. “You're absolutely right. I know that. I can't fix it but I'm trying my best to treat her better going forward.”

“Good. You remember that before you let your temper get the better of you about this whole thing. I see you grinding your teeth and getting upset, but she’s a good kid with a good head on her shoulders and she's been doing the best she can. She's been agonizing for months about not being able to tell you everything and you'd do well to remember that she's always done right by you even if you haven't by her.”

“Hells bells, you’ve been gone my entire life. You’re back for an hour and you’re already on my case?” I replied, but I think my shit-eating grin may have undermined any heat the words had held. “Yes, fine _mom_. I will try to keep my temper under control and my mind open. You were saying Molly made you forget anything that could get you in trouble but she didn’t break any Laws to do it?”

“Anything that could get me in trouble? Hardly. But the specifics on my apparent death and Lea’s involvement, yes. We made a deal – I’d give her my memories. In exchange she gave me freedom, once my commitment to her Frozen Highness had been served. She demanded the same of Lea and once she was satisfied that she could safely question us, she did. We were cleared of any wrongdoing and I've been serving out my sentence ever since.”

It was a lot to take in. The question that beat out the rest to make it to my lips first was, “Why didn't she tell me?”

“She was ordered not to, for one. She's been trying to give you hints but…well how could you have guessed?” Hesitantly, as if afraid I might lash out at the touch, she placed one hand on my knee. “And even if she could have, how would you have reacted to the news that I was alive and being held against my will at Arctis Tor?” I met her eyes for just a second, familiar and alien at the same time, and I could tell we both knew exactly how I’d have reacted. How I might still react come to think of it. Rage was boiling in my heart, at Molly for keeping this secret even if it was for my own good, at Mab for keeping my mother against her will and preventing anyone from telling me, at myself for not figuring it out on my own. Had she given me hints? Had she tried to tell me? I thought back on all the times she’d started and stopped a sentence, or got frustrated at her inability to say something. And then I recalled one day in particular and my blood ran cold.

“You were in the Queen’s service last Halloween.”

“Aye, I was.” Margaret agreed solemnly.

“I was working a really gruesome case, last Halloween. Real nasty murders involving magic, the dark kind.”

“Yeah.” She sighed. “Yeah, I know you were, Harry.”

“Molly was involved. But she wasn’t alone.” I kept talking mechanically, really hoping that she’d derail my train of thought before it reached its destination. “She had a partner, female, Council-level power.” She just kept staring ahead, eyes unfocused on anything in particular. “All of the victims knew you. When I asked Dougal who had attacked him, he said…” I couldn’t bring myself to finish it. “You and Molly seem to have spent a lot of time together.”

“Aye, we have.” I’d heard rumors of course. I knew my mother hadn’t been squeaky clean. She’d had wardens tailing her everywhere she went because she was so fond of pushing the boundaries of the Laws, taking them as far as she could go without technically breaking them, finding the ‘grey’ areas. Molly had even said it, hadn’t she, that the attacker had done the same thing. ‘Remember what Luccio said about your mother.’ She was trying to tell me.

“…Why?”

“Queen’s orders. They were plotting a coup, and she couldn’t allow it. I knew them, as you said, so I was a logical choice. Molly was ordered along to make sure I didn’t try to escape. We worked together to track them down but I did most of the heavy lifting, so to speak. As I’m sure you figured out.”

“You didn’t just kill them, you destroyed them. Why?” My mind reeled at the very thought. I could still feel the dark energies that were left over at the church crawling over my skin, see the torrent of flame spouting from Dougal’s throat. That anyone could do it, let alone my own flesh and blood…

“I could give you excuses or lie but the truth is because I wanted to. I wanted them to suffer and I wanted to make an example of them.” She sucked her teeth, looking away and there was no denying her father. “See, they had this plan to recruit you. Apparently, the best way to kill a fairy is by using the power of their own Court. And since you’ve got not one but two dead Queens under your belt, they thought they could persuade you to add a few more.”

“That’s insane!” I protested.

Margaret nodded. “Yes. Nechtan said the same thing, told us Maeve had gotten involved and everyone had lost their minds. Molly thinks she did something to them, maybe?” I grunted in acknowledgment. Yeah, she probably did something to them alright, but if Margaret didn't know about Nemesis I wasn’t going to bring it up. “Anyway the plan was to use you and if you wouldn’t be used, to kill you too. I may not be the best mother in the world, Harry, but I'll be damned if I'm going to let a group of two-bit fairy rebels plot to kill my son. No, I wanted them all to know, from the Mothers down to the last lowly imp, my boys are not fair game and I'm happy to visit pain and destruction on anyone who even thinks otherwise.”

My stomach did more flip flops. “I think I've demonstrated that well enough myself. I don't need you to protect me and if that's how you'd do it? I’m still warden of this region until they tell me otherwise. I have no tolerance for black magic, Margaret.”

“I broke no Laws.” She said stiffly. “I didn’t kill anyone directly with magic.”

“I don’t care how you used it!” I thundered, confusion and pain and fear all combining into a knot of hard anger. “It's destructive and corruptive and just, wrong. Magic is a force of life, of creation and you, you, you perverted it. You used it to torture and maim and kill. Even indirectly, if you can't see how that's wrong, I'm sorry but we're done here.” Memories flashed in front of me, someone I’d trusted to be my parent, my protector, the reek of black magic tainting everything around us and a world in flames. Then again, hadn't Justin been friends with her once upon a time?

Margaret swore in a language I wasn’t familiar with (which, honestly, is most of them) before slumping in defeat. “Of course. Any time you kill anyone in cold blood, with or without magic, is wrong. Sometimes necessary, but still wrong. I'm not asking for your approval or forgiveness. I'm not sorry for what I did to most of those bastards. Zevah, Dougal, Tameera, they were monsters through and through and they got what they deserved. But…” She took a deep breath. “I was angry. At them. At Molly for keeping me prisoner. At the Queen for keeping me from you and Tommy. At myself for leaving you both alone. And I think, well, 40 years as a hellhound might have some lingering effects on the mind. In the middle of all that turmoil, I decided right and wrong wasn’t as important to me as making up for all the ways I failed you. All that mattered is that you were protected and safe and that everybody knew it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I know WOJ is that she's dead but seriously, she's Margaret LaFey. Everything we've heard/seen about her in canon, combined with everything we know about her father and sons, I just have a hard time buying that she didn't have any tricks up her sleeves. Not saying she's alive in the regular canon, since hey, it's Jim Butcher's baby and what he says is law. But this is my AU and damn it, in my headcanon nobody in the McCoy line is going to let something as trivial as dying stop them, especially not when she knew death was coming for her and had time to prepare. 
> 
> But y'know, feel free to rage at me in the comments. I accept this, as a filthy canon-violating jackass.


	5. Chapter 5

I wanted to stay angry. I conjured up images of her victims. I imagined her slitting her friend’s throat, crushing Nechtan to death, eviscerating Doug. It should have been enough. But I could hear myself say ‘me and the kid will roast marshmallows.’ I could see blood draining into a stone table. Feel the ritual knife in my hands while Susan whimpered. All for Maggie, because right or wrong would never be as important to me as her safety, as Showing Up for my kids. “Gramps dropped a satellite on a guy to prove the same point. I killed his widow and then his entire species a few years back. Anyone who was going to be threatened off is already threatened off, so you can refrain from any further displays of maternal vengeance.”

She looked like she wasn't sure what to do with her face but eventually settled on a smile. “Do you really call Ebenezer McCoy ‘Gramps’?”

“Hell no!” I laughed. “I don't have a death wish. I call him ‘Sir’. Maybe ‘Ebb’ on a good day.”

“Thank god. I don't know if I could have handled it if the world had changed so much that the old man had gone soft.” We both chuckled and smiled at that thought. It felt odd, knowing that this stranger in front of me wasn’t a stranger at all, that in a different life I would have grown up seeing her face every day, hearing this soft laughter, sharing that sweet smile with her. How much different would my life have been without a constant stream of losses and fights and temporary “parents”, a world where I’d never met Justin DuMorne? I didn’t let myself dwell on it. We couldn’t change the past and even if we could, I wouldn’t. Everything in my life had lead me here to this moment – to a home I shared with my daughters, my fiancée and in the not so distant future, my son. To a happy life. Full of ups and downs (like my fiancée lying to me about my mother for the better part of a year and almost our entire relationship) for sure, but happy overall.

“He’s in town,” I told her, realizing it as I said it. “We should call him and let him know.”

The smile died on her lips. “No. The Council can’t know I’m alive. I…burned my bridges a long time ago.”

“I wasn’t proposing that we call Luccio or the Merlin himself, just Ebenezer, on family business, not Council business.”

Mom snorted derisively. “That old man is _always_ on Council business. He’s Wizard McCoy first, everything else second. Always has been, always will be. If you call him, he’ll tell the Council.”

“What makes you think _I_ won’t? I’m a warden.”

“You know what it’s like to be on the other side of the Council’s judgment, to have the wardens breathing down your neck just waiting for you to slip up. You wouldn’t turn anyone over to their tender mercies unless you thought the person was beyond saving, not after what almost happened with Molly.”

“Is there a Harry Dresden biography published somewhere that I’m not familiar with? How do you know every detail of my…Molly. Because Molly told you.” I shook my head. “This is insane. I’m certain that I’m going to go to sleep and when I wake up I’ll find that the last 24 hours of my life have just been the weirdest dream.”

“I hope not. I've been waiting for the chance to talk to you since the moment I returned.” Something in the way her voice caught made me look up and it was like looking into a mirror I had been avoiding. All of the desperate longing for love, for family, for someone to tell me that I belong and I’m not alone in the world, the wounds I’d carried since the day my father died, I saw in her. And, hey, who better to know how she felt, right? I’d been there, hoping beyond all hope that I would somehow be enough for my kid, that she wouldn’t be scared of me, that she’d like me. Margaret sat before me, trying to hide how much she needed me to reassure her that, despite everything, I was still happy to have my mom.

“I’ve wanted to talk to you my whole life, so I guess we’re even.” It was true and it cost me nothing to say it, but I watched the way the words lit up her face. “And I hope you’ll be around a while.”

“I still owe the Queen a few months and I’m sure she’ll keep me busy but I’ll be around as much as I can be. If that’s what you want of course. I don’t want to impose or–”

“No, of course.” I hurriedly assured her. “You’re always welcome, whenever you want for as long as you want. I mean, we have so much to catch up on, and I have so many questions. I’m sure you do too.”

“Aye, I could ask you questions til I was blue in the face.” Her lips quirked into a crooked smile. “I reckon for all her worries, now that the cat’s out of the bag Molly will be pleased as punch that I won't have to harass her with questions and pester her for updates on you boys.”

“She _did_ seem unusually worried about this, even for her. I mean, I'm obviously not _happy_ that she didn't invite you over sooner or whatever loophole she's using, but it's not anything insurmountable.”

My mom stood up, stretching. “I don't think she was as worried about hiding me as she was about the fact that she’s also keeping me prisoner. She's the one that decreed that I needed to serve my full year to High Bitch of Winter. It was fairly done and I think probably the best she could do given the circumstances but it took me a while to see it. We thought it might take you a while as well.”

“Hm.” It was a good point. A valid concern. My hands flexed of their own accord and I told them to calm down. “It might, yeah. Molly and I will definitely be having words.” I stood up with her, planning on leading us back upstairs. It seemed like any kind of shouting or hurling of magic was probably past us and we could safely sit in the living room without waking Maggie (or disrupting her reading.) “But, things are different for us than for most couples. Winter is a bitch. Making a relationship work with one of the sidhe? It’s hard. You can't imagine the things–”

“Mm. I can imagine better than you might care to know.” Okay, file that away under ‘things to never examine more closely or ever bring up again’.

“Right. Well. Um. The point is I have to accept that sometimes she does things I don't like, and as long as she’s doing them because she has to, not just because she wants to.” I shrugged. “I can live with that. She should know that by now.”

My mother roamed the lab in silence for a minute or two, inspecting Little Chicago, our shelves of supplies, the summoning circle embedded in the floor. Her gaze lingered on Bonnie’s skull and I thought about introducing them but if I let Bonnie out we'd never get upstairs. Especially with all the news I’d need to catch her up on. When she'd completed her circuit she came to stand in front of me, maybe an arm’s-length away and I couldn’t help but note that she’d left her back exposed to the empty air of the room rather than keeping a wall behind her. It was an issue if you were expecting someone to come down the stairs and attack from behind, but an advantage if you expected a frontal assault and anticipated the need for space to back up and maneuver. No one was going to mistake Margaret LeFay for anything but the predator she was, but that one simple action put me on edge. She was acknowledging me as a stronger potential threat, clearly and deliberately.

“I'm not the only secret Molly's been keeping from you. And not all of her secrets are because she has to keep them. Sometimes she just doesn't want you to know.”

“But you do?” I prompted, unsure of where this was going.

“I agreed with Molly that we should keep you out of it. We wanted to keep you safe as long as we could, but in light of recent and upcoming events, well…we agreed that it’s pretty much inevitable that you'll get involved now and there’s no sense in keeping you in the dark.”

“Okay, so enlighten me. What's going on?”

Margaret looked very much like a woman facing the gallows, grim but determined to keep her head high. “Treason.”

“Treason?” I repeated. “Against Winter?” She nodded. “The same group you were targeting at Halloween or is this a new plot?”

“It’s a different group. Ideally a different plot.” She eyed my clenched fists, my tightened jaw. “As the Knight, you’re automatically getting ready for a fight, ready to crush any who would dare oppose your Queens, tear them limb from limb, bathe in their blood, that sort of thing. Am I right?”

I flushed. “Winter is pretty much always telling me to kill something. I've got it under control for now. You don't need to worry.”

“Mm. Sit back down for a moment. I want to tell you about a friend of mine and her troubled relationship with her mother.”

“Uh. Is this really the time?” Molly had to be having a total meltdown by that point. I hadn't paid attention to how long we'd been down here but it had been awhile.

“Trust me, this is exactly the time.” When I started to argue she raised one eyebrow. “Harry Blackstone Copperfield Dresden. Don't think that just because it's been a while I've forgotten how to use my mom voice. Sit down and listen.”

I don't know if anyone had ever said my Name with such power before, and almost none of it magical. I sat down promptly. “Yes, ma'am.”

She stayed standing, pacing slowly and gesturing with her hands as she spoke. “Alright, just bear with me, I swear this is important. I have a friend, let's call her ‘Molly’. And my friend Molly has a rather fraught relationship with her mother.”

“Charity, yeah. Have you met her?”

“Molly's mother is very focused on running a proper household. She cares for her children, in her own way, but she can be very controlling and overbearing.”

“So you _have_ met her.”

“Some of us, Molly, Lea and I, in particular, think that sometimes Molly’s mother can be a bit too overbearing. That sometimes she restricts her children too much, that she punishes them unjustly over technicalities, that she rules with an iron fist even when a gentle hand would do just as well.”

“Sure she’s a lot, but don’t you think you’re being a little hard on her? Charity and Molly have always–”

“Molly does her best to honor her mother’s wishes while still shielding everyone else from her whenever and however she can. But we’re starting to think that maybe a sense of duty and loyalty to your children and your house is not all it takes to be a good family matriarch. Maybe if your subjects, I mean children,” the slip had obviously been intentional. “only follow you out of fear of your rules, then they’d be better served with a different mother.”

Oh. This wasn’t about Charity at all. “…Well, that sounds good in theory, but wouldn’t a new mother be just the same as this one?”

“You mean like the current Lady is just the same as the last?” She arched an eyebrow.

“She’s still new. For all we know, with time she might be. And even if not, what you’re talking about is insane. Didn’t you just tell me that you executed people for the exact same thing?”

“I told you I executed people for trying to drag my son into their treasonous plots, knowing it would cost him his life. If I was planning anything treasonous, I certainly wouldn’t mention it to you, Molly or Lea outright, because you’re all hardwired to strongly react to such things. I’m just talking to you about a friend with a problem.”

“Heh. Okay, we’ll keep up that flimsy premise of a metaphor you have going then. Killing Molly’s mom? That’s a suicide mission. I’ve Seen her in action. Nothing that we have can go up against her.”

“Lea thinks otherwise, but I agree. I've been hoping that if we can persuade enough people to our cause, maybe she’ll step down willingly or at least without lethal force required.” She sighed. “Of course, that was the plan before today. Now…well, we thought you should be aware of what's afoot before the two of you start planning next steps. I’m afraid that…I don’t know if a peaceful solution was ever likely but now it seems so far out of reach, it’s laughable.”

“And what does Molly have to say about all of this?” I asked, thinking surely she must be trying to talk sense into both of them.

“Harry, it was Molly’s idea in the first place. We’ve been planning and meeting with people and doing research for months now, all in the hopes that we’d find a solution, peaceful or otherwise. You've probably met supporters without realizing it. I’m sure you’ve heard Molly and Lea at least use the code phrase, ‘I live to serve'.”

My head spun. A coup. That’s what she was talking about. They were planning a freakin’ fairy revolution right under my nose, in my house, without my knowledge. My fairy godmother and my dead mom and my pregnant fiancée who was next in line for the throne and who knows who else. Hadn’t Sarissa used the code phrase? How many were involved without me knowing about it? I had a vision of Lloyd Slate in the frozen gardens of Arctis Tor, begging for the sweet release of death, and he was wearing my face. That was the reality of this situation. I’d seen this story play out several times now, each time at the hands of Nemesis, and each time it had ended with a dead Lady.

“No. I won’t be a part of this. Neither will you. Neither will Molly. We can find a different way. But this plan? This is a bad plan. And trust me, I’m the king of bad plans so I know what I’m talking about here. It’s too dangerous and there’s no way we’d make it out. I can’t believe Molly would be foolish enough to consider it.”

Margaret frowned at her feet then glanced over at me. “When the Queen summoned Molly on Thanksgiving, she threatened to replace you both.” I started to say that I was there but she continued. “I don't think Molly would have suggested action if she'd left it at the threat of death and torture. But the Queen made it clear that she already had new vessels lined up to replace you. Your brother would take over as the Knight. And for the Lady,” She tensed, ready for action. “Maggie.”

I learned in that moment that there is something on the other side of pure, unadulterated ire. There’s irritation, anger, fury, burning rage, red-hot wrath, and hatred, but beyond that, there’s a place of cold, calculated madness. If my anger over Molly and Carlos had been red, this new state of mind was white. The white of sterile hospital walls, and white like white noise, a perfect absence of color and sound and feeling that left me centered on one simple fact: Mab was already dead, she just didn’t know it yet. “Then I give you my word, there will not be a peaceful resolution. She destroyed any chance the moment she tried to get my daughter involved.”

My mother nodded, understanding and perhaps sympathetic. “I know. I just don't like our odds for the other option.”

“Maybe Molly didn't tell you this,” I replied in a monotone, my head swimming with visions of Mab being drawn and quartered, fed to wolves, ripped limb from limb with my own two hands. The last one was especially appealing. “I've spent most of my life with the odds stacked against me, yet I always manage to come out on top. It's kind of what I'm known for.”

That drew a short laugh. “Yeah, she mentioned that.”

“Good. Then don't worry.” I said with confidence, the peaceful white symphony of violent urges screaming through my brain. “I'll find a way. What's the plan?”

“…We don't have one. Yet.” She kicked lightly at the ground. “Lea might but most of her plans have been all-out warfare.”

“We can't afford that. Even if we had an army to command, she'd just pull the forces of Winter back to stop us, leaving fewer troops to defend the gates.” I stroked the stubble along my jaw, thinking. “It’s got to be quick, a surprise attack. We need a way to lure her to the table. We can't afford to wait until Halloween, Molly’s ‘condition’ will be too apparent by then. I don't know how long we have until She catches on, especially if the imbalance in power grows, but that can be to our advantage. We–” My mother wrapped her arms around me and it was so unexpected I lost my train of thought completely. I think her grip would have been too tight on a normal person, but it felt perfect to me. Awkwardly I placed my hand on her back. “Mom?”

“Sorry. I just…” She tried to let go, but I kept my hand where it was and she stayed there. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. This is important. It’s just…it’s been so long.”

“Yeah.” I agreed, my voice too thick with emotion. “Far too long.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I’ve failed both of you boys so much.”

“You’re here now,” I told her. Those damn allergies strike at the worst possible moments, making my eyes water like that. “That’s all that’s important.”

There is a limit to the amount of adrenaline one man can possibly burn through, and while I have a much higher limit than the average Joe, even I have to hit the wall eventually. And the thing is, adrenaline is great when it’s running high and you’re feeling charged and ready to take on the world or deal with whatever bit of terror or surprise that’s triggered it. But when it runs out, that’s it. Your body is on E and the little indicator light is blinking at you frantically to refuel. Hell, right then I think mine was flashing the check engine light too. I’d never been so exhausted without using soulfire. Still, when my mother said, “You look like you need a good night’s sleep.” I told her I was fine.

She cuffed me up the backside of my head and I winced on reflex. “You're a stubborn liar.” She accused, but her expression was soft. “We’ll both still be here in the morning. Go make sure Molly hasn’t worried herself ragged thinking you've run away, and then go to bed, both of you.”

“Aw, come on, five more minutes?” I whined and we both smiled.

“Don't make me tell you twice, Harry Dresden.” She chided playfully.

I gave an exaggerated eye roll. “Yes, mom.” She kissed my forehead and it made me feel safe and warm from head to toe. For half a heartbeat I felt like I was five years old again, when the whole world seemed full of light and wonder and I thought everything would always have a happy ending. We trooped upstairs and I tried to argue with her about sleeping on the couch, offering to have Maggie sleep upstairs with us so she could have a real bed but she wouldn't stand for it, insisting she'd had worse places to sleep than our couch and she wasn’t about to wake up her granddaughter in the middle of the night to steal her bed out from under her. I know it was crazy, but I had a hard time leaving her, afraid that somehow she'd disappear the moment she was out of my sight and I'd lose her all over again. But I thought of Molly, kissing me like it was our last kiss goodbye, and hurried up the stairs.

The carpet in the hall crunched under my feet, coated in frost that had seeped out from under the bedroom door. I found her huddled in a snow mound, curled into a tight little ball like an ice-covered armadillo, in the back of our bedroom closet. She lifted her head just enough to blink up at me when I slid the door aside, then tucked it back against her knees with a whimper. “Molls.” I breathed quietly with a puff of fog.

“I'm sorry.” She mumbled, small and scared. There were a lot of things I thought. I wanted to yell and argue and scream about how upset I was that she'd been lying to me, hiding things from me, hiding my _mom_ from me. I wanted to tell her it was unacceptable that she'd been plotting to overthrow her own Queen here in our home right under my nose. I wanted to shout that there had to have been better options than keeping my mom prisoner, letting her murder people with black magic, springing her on me unexpectedly. There was a storm of conflicting emotions fighting for control of my chest.

But it had been a very, very long day and what I wanted most of all, more than anything, was to just go to sleep with the woman I loved by my side, safe and snug in our bed. So I knelt down, scooped her up, and held her close to me. “You were right. It’s not okay. And in the morning we need to have a very serious discussion about honesty and trust going forward.” She shifted to look up at me, her tears frozen in lines down her cheeks, bunched up like itty-bitty icicles on her lashes and despite everything I smiled. “But right now I need you to calm down because I’d really like to kiss you and I’m afraid my lips will get stuck and it’ll be like that kid in A Christmas Story.” I slid into bed, still clothed, with my frozen ball of Molly resting on my lap, cradled in my arms.

“…That was his tongue, not his lips.” Molly finally replied, voice choked with tears.

“Still seems chancy.” I kissed the top of her head anyway. “I told you not to worry.”

“Yeah, but, you say that a lot.” She slowly unfurled herself but stayed sitting on my lap, her back against my chest, her head leaned back against my shoulder. “And usually when you say it is when I should worry the most.”

“I'm not saying I’m not mad. I mean, hell, you’ve been lying for, what, 90% of our relationship?”

“…um. Pretty much 100% of it.” She swallowed hard. “You remember when the Ways were all closed?”

I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, knowing the answer to my next question before I asked. “You mean the first morning we were together?”

“Mmhm.” She sounded pained when she admitted it. “That’s the first time I met her.”

I closed my eyes, counted backward from thirty, another deep breath in, another deep breath out. “Right. Obviously, I am less than thrilled about that. But.” I ran one hand over my face, groaning into it. “But. It's not like I didn't know you had secrets. I can't back out now just because I found out what they are.”

Molly found both of my hands, pulling my arms around her like a blanket. “You could. No one would blame you.”

“ _I_ would blame me. And apparently so would my mother.” I laughed to myself. “I think she likes you better.”

She snorted. “Yeah right. That woman is obsessed with you and Thomas.” She turned just a bit so that she could meet my eyes. “How much did she tell you?”

“Enough.” I held her a little tighter. “Your deal with her and Lea. Halloween. The insane things you've been plotting together.”

Her eyebrows drew down, knitting together in a frown of consternation, and I thought she was going to deny it. “...She threatened Maggie. She can threaten me until she's blue in the face and I don't care. But I will not let her pass this curse on to our daughter. I don't care about the consequences, as long as she's safe and, mmph.” I kissed her hard enough to bruise a normal human. I'd seen Molly angry before. I'd seen her defiant and hostile, ready to attack someone or something that had threatened us. But I'd never seen a fire in her like I had in that moment when she talked about our daughter (the first time she'd used the word ‘our’ and not ‘your’,) a ferocity that made everything else fall away.

“I said it was insane. I didn't say I didn't understand.” I brushed the melted tears off her cheeks. “You could have told me sooner.”

“I was hoping to avoid violence as long as possible. Your…” Her mouth worked, trying to form words before she rolled her eyes and said, “One of my cohorts believes our goal can be accomplished without bloodshed. But I worried that if we told you, you'd either try to stop us or be halfway to Arctis Tor before we could stop you.”

“Well, I'm not stopping you. I don't know how we're going to manage it when we can't even directly talk about it but,” I kissed her again. “I guess we'll figure it out together.”

“I…I don't understand how you're so…calm about this.” Her eyes searched my own. “I lied to you, deliberately and practically daily, for months. You should be angrier.”

“I _am_ angry.” I snapped, proving the point.

“I know. I can feel that but, you should be furious with me.”

I spoke with exaggerated patience. “Maybe I will be. But it's almost daylight out. I’m exhausted and I don't want to fight with you.”

“You _should_ want to fight.” There was a tremble in her voice, filled with aching confusion. “You should shout at me, hit me, demand your ring back. I violated your trust. I went behind your back. If she told you about Halloween, you know I've done horrible things. I've endangered you. I've endangered Maggie. I knew it would hurt you to keep secrets, after everything you've gone through, but I did it anyway. I'm a monster and I deserve your anger, I deserve to be punished for what I've done, I deserve to lose you over this. But here you are, holding me, kissing me, smiling at me. You shouldn't even want to look at me.”

I took a couple of minutes to digest that. The truth is, part of me wanted to agree with her, to pull her hair and throw her down and take out my pain at yet another betrayal, yet another woman who kept me in the dark, by inflicting it on her. I wish I could say it came from my mantle, but this ugly dark part of me was all my own. As always, I told that little bit to shut the fuck up and locked it away. I might not be a good man, but I’m at least not the kind of asshole who beats his pregnant fiancée. So I thought long and hard about what I _was_ going to do.

I’d been trying to ignore it, to be honest. I had mentally acknowledged my mother’s words and Molly’s. I knew what she had done. Keeping my mother from me. Planning treason. Keeping me in the dark for my own protection. We’d already argued about it, hadn’t we? I didn’t want to process my feelings about it but she hadn’t let it go and now my chest ached like it was going to cave in under the weight, and even the anger that tried to flood through me couldn’t burn away that awful pain. I’d been around this block before, at the intersection of ‘how could she?!’ and ‘I’m such a fool for not seeing this coming’. It was basically where all of my relationships wound up, right? Elaine. Susan. Anastacia. Hell, even Karrin when you got right down to it.

So I knew how my choices could play out. I knew how this story had ended every time it had come up before. And Molly knew it almost as well, which is why she had panicked. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice? I don’t think so. I wasn’t the type to stick around and let you hurt me again. Molly had seen that in me, known exactly how much this would hurt me, and she'd done it anyway. It was like a perfectly designed knife in the back for me. Looking at it from that angle, it was worse. It was so much worse. Maybe unforgivable.

But the thing is, that wasn't the entire picture. Because I hadn't come home early and caught her out, like Elaine. She hadn't waited to tell me until there was no other option like Susan. She hadn’t even kept the secrets because she thought I’d be upset with her. Molly had been keeping secrets because she was afraid that I would do something reckless and get myself killed. It was a reasonable fear since I fully intended on watching the life drain from Mab’s body for what she’d done to my mother and what she’d threatened to do to my fiancée, brother, and daughter. More importantly, I thought, she'd voluntarily broken her silence. She hadn't needed to say anything, not right now. I would have happily married her, none-the-wiser, and I was pretty sure any vows we exchanged weren't going to be the sort that could be dissolved later on when I _did_ find out. Molly had decided to tell me anyway, knowing it would hurt me, convinced I would walk away because it was the right thing to do. 

“Have you ever had a day when you swear you must have just woken up on the wrong side of the bed?” I asked. “Like everything is just destined to be awful?”

“Often.” She agreed, fearful. “Everyone does.”

“I was thinking maybe that was what happened today. Maybe yesterday too. I hurt worse than I have in a long time. And not just from that damned flogger. It almost feels like grief. I guess it is, grieving for trust lost and broken, and it’s threatening to swallow me whole. It seems unbearable. Only…”

“Only?” Molly prompted.

“Only, I know from experience this pain won’t last forever. And I think, when I look back on today, I’m not going to remember our fights or Karrin telling me I wasn’t safe for Maggie, or the way it felt when I realized you were right to be worried. I’ll remember the first time my mom kissed me goodnight and sent me to bed. The first time my brother and grandfather laughed together at my expense. I’ll remember the way your voice trembled when you told me about our son. How the knots in my stomach gave way to the warmest happiness I’ve ever felt when you agreed to marry me.”

Her voice was barely a whisper. “Yes, but will you remember those things fondly or with bitterness about the huge mistakes you made?” She swallowed. “Or almost made.”

“I think when I look back on the other side of this pain, I’m going to find that this has actually been the best day of my life so far.” I heaved a sigh. “Can you just do me a favor? Promise me something. How ever you want to phrase it is fine.”

“Of course, Harry,” She readily agreed, like I knew she would, like she had so many times before. I could have demanded anything at that moment and she'd have gone along with it, paid any price to try to make up for what she viewed as irredeemable offenses.

I stared deep into her gorgeous eyes, the color of summer skies for all the Winter in her veins, and said, “Promise me we’ll name him Luke.”

“…What?”

“Our son. I want to name him Luke.”

Her eyes went flat and her tone matched it. “Absolutely not.”

“Come on. It's biblical, your parents will love it.”

“Not a chance.”

“But if we name him Luke, we can–”

“I know exactly why, dork.” She said with a laugh. “And we're not naming our son Luke just so you can quote Vader at him for the rest of his life.”

“Fine.” I relented. Since that hadn’t been the point anyway, and I’d succeeded in putting a smile on her face, I wasn’t too upset about it. Molly shimmied and shifted until she was laying beside me which made it much easier to kiss her soundly this time. “I won't ask you to always be honest or to never keep secrets from me, but–”

Her eyes widened. “No, wait, that's exactly what you should ask.” It was my turn to look dumbfounded as her excitement grew. She composed herself as formally as one can while laying in bed in the crook of someone’s arm and cleared her throat. “I, Lady Molly of Winter, acknowledge that I have wronged you with my actions these past few months. A debt is owed and the scales must be balanced. I pledge to you, my Knight and consort, that I will keep no secrets from you, that my words will not be obscured before you as they are all others. I pledge to do my utmost to be worthy of the trust you’ve placed in me, and that even if others would bind my tongue against you in the past, present or future, my oath to you will prevail, for you are foremost in my heart. This cannot undo the injury I've caused you, but I hope it will satisfy the debt between us and assure you of my commitment to goodwill between us going forward.”

I wetted my lips and asked carefully, “A-are you sure you want to make that pledge?”

She thought about it, half muttering the words to herself. “Yes. As long as the terms are agreeable to you.”

“That’s fine with me but you really don't have to–” Molly’s mouth was hot and urgent against mine, and the shiver of our bargain settling over us was nothing compared to the fire she inspired in me. We were both grinning when she finally pulled away. “Have I been doing it wrong this whole time? Is the tongue necessary to seal a deal?”

“Did I need to do it for my oath? No. But did I need to do it? Heck yeah.” She nuzzled the side of my face. “Let's see if this works. Your mother, Margaret LaFey, has made my life a living hell since the moment I first saw her and I am so insanely happy that you two are finally able to talk and get to know each other.”

“Guess it works. And it must be a family trait. Making your life a living hell.” I added the last at her confused expression and we both laughed. After everything, it felt amazing just to be able to laugh together. 

“I really am sorry, you know.” She said after a time. “I couldn't tell you about Margaret. But even once I figured it out, that she'd forbade me from _saying_ anything, but hadn't said anything about letting you see her, I waited to tell you. Just like I kept our other plans from you. It wasn't right, I knew it wasn't right but I did it anyway. I know it doesn’t make it better but I'm so sorry.”

“Molls, tell me something, how much time have you already spent agonizing and beating yourself up about this?”

“Well…just about every spare moment of every day.” She admitted sheepishly.

“Then, is there anything I could say that you haven't already said in your head?” I kissed the tip of her nose. “I understand. Apology accepted. Now can we please put all this behind us for now and just go to sleep?”

“That might be the sexiest thing you've ever said. I have never been as exhausted as I am right now.”

“Should we get undressed?” I asked, half-heartedly.

“Mm. Sounds like work.” She murmured, her head already nestled on my chest.

“True.” I agreed, pulling the blankets haphazardly over us. “You could do your magic clothes disappearance trick.”

“Still any effort. And any effort is too much effort right now.”

“I never thought I'd see the day when you were too tired to undress me.” I teased around a yawn.

“Well,” Molly's yawn echoed mine. “It’s been a day for things I never thought I'd see. Plus, if you haven't left yet, you must really be here for good, so I'll have other chances to get you naked.”

“I told you before I'm not going anywhere. No matter what.”

“You did.” She agreed and my eyes were already getting heavy. “But I couldn't know for sure until we put it to the test. Now we know.”

“Now we know.” I smiled because I'd already known, but if this is what it took for Molly to finally realize I wasn’t going anywhere, then maybe it was worth it. “Sweet dreams, my almost-wife.”

I didn't need to open my eyes to know that she was practically glowing at the reminder. She stretched up to kiss me. “Good night, my almost-husband.”


	6. Chapter 6

I awoke with the distinct feeling that someone or something was watching me. Since this has historically never worked out well for me, I was instantly on high alert. Molly was still passed out in my arms. Without moving or giving myself away I let my eyes scan the bedroom to try to find –

“Daddy.” Maggie's voice whispered beside me. I turned to look at her, blinking sleep from my eyes. “Daddy, there's someone in our kitchen.”

I sat up slowly, rubbing my face and drawing a groan of protest from Molly for disturbing her sleeping. The past day sunk in and my muted panic gave way to muted relief (and also a different kind of muted panic.) “A tall woman, dark hair, looks a little like your Uncle Thomas?”

She nodded her head. “Mouse and I heard a noise and went to investigate and she was just standing there, cooking breakfast like she lives here.” She said ‘investigate’ like it was the coolest thing a person could do. I must be a bad influence on her.

“Did she introduce herself?” I stretched and was glad we'd been too tired to get undressed the night before. Maggie had enough things to talk about in therapy already without me accidentally flashing her.

“No, but she knew my name. Mouse didn't growl at her or anything.”

“Still, better to be safe. Thanks for coming to get me, princess.”

“Actually, she told me to come get you. She said you might sleep the whole day away if we let you, and that she could let you skip breakfast but Molly needs her strength, so I should come get you both.” This elicited another groan from Molly, who showed no signs of moving. “I left Mouse to keep an eye on her, though.”

“She's alright.” My voice was rough, and I felt hungover. “It's just your grandmother. Tell her we’ll be down soon.”

“My grandmother. Like, your mom?” I nodded, which was a bad idea. “Didn’t you guys say she was um, not, y’know, alive last night?”

“Yeah, it was a surprise for me too.” I ruffled her hair. “We’ll meet you downstairs in a few, okay kiddo?” Once she exited, I turned to the pile of blankets and blonde hair beside me. “You getting up?”

“I don't take orders from Margaret LaFey.” She complained into the mattress. “…But I _am_ hungry.”

“Do you want me to bring something up to you? You can stay in bed if you want.” I stood up and stretched and both of those were mistakes. Everything hurt. Almost like I'd recently been tortured or something.

“I'm not an invalid.” She grumbled, pushing herself to her hands and knees and half-standing half-sliding out of bed. “What time is it?”

“It’s,” I double-checked the clock. “Jesus, almost 1.”

“Mmm.” She rubbed her eyes. “Guess I can't justifiably murder her for waking me up at an ungodly hour of the morning then, huh?” I was pretty sure she was joking but not 100%.

Molly didn't even bother so much as combing her hair before making her way downstairs and I followed suit. After all, she was the morning person, if even she wasn't willing to put forth the effort, I definitely wasn’t. We both paused when we entered the kitchen and, sure enough, there was my mom in the light of day, flipping pancakes. The whole downstairs smelled of bacon and sausage and syrup and my stomach started rumbling immediately. Molly ran for the bathroom.

“Don't worry.” Mom assured me, passing me a full plate. I raised an eyebrow. “Molly said this is new for both of you, right?” I reluctantly agreed. “Right, so don’t worry. The first few months are the worst, but she should be over it soon. It was worse for me the first time around than the second but the nausea and lethargy usually clear up in the next week or two. She’ll be okay.”

Logically I’d already known that, but it was a relief to hear someone say it out loud. “Did you have iron poisoning like Molly too, Gramma?” Maggie asked.

“I’ve been sick like Molly twice before, yes.” Margaret agreed, giving me an amused look. “Many women are, at some point in their lives.”

“I thought only fey could get iron sickness. Daddy, is Gramma a fairy too?”

“She might as well be,” I grumbled. “Honey, why don’t you go downstairs and wake up your sister. She’ll complain, but tell her we have good news.”

“Sister?” My mom arched an eyebrow while Maggie and Mouse raced for the basement door. “Two kids already and this is still your first time being with the mother of your child during her pregnancy?”

“Don’t be too harsh on him. He was definitely there for Bonnie’s pregnancy.” Molly chimed in, looking like death warmed over as she joined me at the kitchen island. “Weren’t you?”

“You know I was,” I said flatly. “Mom, can you close the curtains please?”

Margaret caught Molly in the act of trying to steal bacon off my plate and smacked her fingers with a spatula. “That’s likely to make you sick again. Here, try this instead.” She slid a bowl of yogurt with fruit and granola toward her. “You didn’t tell me I have a second granddaughter.”

“If you’ll recall Mrs. Dresden, I didn’t tell you that you had a first granddaughter. Lea did.” Molly replied primly, staring longingly at my bacon. “Nothing against you or the girls, but it didn’t seem like it was my place to tell you about them.”

She looked like she had a lot to say to that but settled for turning to me. “Is the reporter her mother as well?”

Something ugly stirred in my chest at hearing Susan boiled down to just ‘the reporter’ when she’d been so much more, both to me and as a person, but there was time for that later. “No. Bonnie’s mother, well, it’s hard to explain. She uh.”

“Aren’t _you_ technically Bonnie’s mother?” Molly asked innocently around a spoonful of yogurt.

“Definitely not.” I snarled. “Her mother was–”

“But isn’t the mother the one who carries the child and gives birth?”

I felt my cheeks grow red. “I’m her dad, damnit!”

“Right, but it’s just, the dad’s the one who contributes the necessary building blocks and then ducks out of the process. It’s up to the mother to incubate, nurture, grow and deliver the child. Now, remind me, who was it that I found passed out from pain the day Bonnie was born?”

“I am a male. Therefore, I am her father, not her mother!”

“…Could someone please fill me in here?” Margaret asked, looking back and forth between the two of us with thinly veiled amusement.

“Bonnie is a spirit of intellect,” I explained. “I uh, I unintentionally invited the imprint of a fallen angel into my head and–”

“Which one?” My mother asked sharply, startling me. Right. Old Nick had said he knew her. I shouldn’t have been surprised to find that she knew him and his cronies as well.

“Lasciel.” It didn’t hurt to say as much as it once would have. “I never took up the coin, but I touched it and that was enough. She was in my head and um, well, apparently while she was there her essence sort of melded with part of mine and grew into its own entity.”

“You spawned a spirit of intellect. With Lasciel. The Temptress. The Seducer. The Webweaver?”

“It was an accident.” I protested.

“I’m beginning to see a pattern here. I know I wasn’t there, but didn’t anyone in the last forty years teach you about the birds and the bees?”

“You know, I must have skipped the day they covered the risk of brain pregnancy in sex ed.” I snarled, glaring at Molly. “Are you happy?”

“Extremely.” She grinned.

“I understand this is sort of the story of your life but, shouldn’t that have killed you?” My mother asked with a frown.

“He had an excellent midwife.” Molly proudly proclaimed.

I sighed, giving up any ounce of dignity I had left, and said, “Yeah. Molly’s timely intervention is the only thing that kept us both alive.” I took her free hand and squeezed it gently. “One of the many reasons I put up with her.”

The conversation came to a full stop as Bonnie streamed into the room, darting around full of energy, before finally nuzzling herself against Molly’s cheek. “You said yes!”

“I did,” Molly confirmed with a laugh. “I take it you’re okay with that?”

“Yes! Yesyesyesyes!” She did a loop in midair, bouncing back and forth between the two of us. “Aw, Dad, you didn’t show me the ring. It’s so pretty!”

“Pretty ring for a pretty lady,” I said, leaning over to kiss my bride-to-be.

“Speaking of pretty ladies,” Maggie said, standing eagerly beside her namesake. Mouse was wagging his tail with enough force that he’d knock her over if he wasn’t careful, but of course, Mouse was always careful. My eldest looked from me to her grandmother and back. “Are you going to tell her?”

“Why don't you go ahead, kiddo?”

“Gramma, this is my little sister, Bonea, but we call her Bonnie. Bonnie, this is our Gramma Margaret.” She practically beamed when she added, “I'm named after her, you know.”

Bonnie dimmed a little bit. “Uh. Harry?” She floated to hover near me. “That can't be right, can it? Our grandmother was killed, October 31st, 1974 by Lord Raith of the White Court.”

“It didn't stick,” Margaret said with a wry smile. She held out one hand. “Come here, let me get a look at you.”

“It’s alright,” I assured Bonnie. “It’s the truth. I’ll explain later but she’s safe.”

Hesitantly, Bonnie bobbed across the kitchen until she was floating above her grandmother's outstretched palm. “Look at you, you're just stunning.” My mother cooed, inspecting her. “I've never seen anything quite like you before. Where I grew up, if we thought a girl was pretty we'd call her a ‘bonnie lass’, and it’s a very fitting name you bear because that is a beautiful shade of green.”

“Th-thank you.” If she glowed any brighter she'd blind us all. 

I gave Molly a questioning look and she shrugged. “Might as well get it all out in the open.”

“You're right.” I raised my voice a little. “There's some other news we wanted to share with you both.”

“Your dad and I are really excited about this,” Molly added, squeezing my hand tightly. “And we hope you will be too. We both love you so, so much and no matter how much things may change in the next few months, that never will, okay?”

I drew a shaking breath that did nothing to decrease my nervousness or wipe the smile off my face, looked Maggie in the eyes and said, “You're going to have a baby brother soon.”

“Or possibly a sister.” Molly amended, then to my questioning look. “It's technically too early to tell, I just have a feeling.”

“Okay, well you're going to have a baby brother or sister soon.”

There was a moment of stunned silence, followed by the rapid thudding of my heart as Maggie’s face slowly dropped into a deep frown. “Like Bonnie?” She asked. Molly shook my hand gently and I realized I was gripping her so hard that her already-pale fingers were turning a bloodless white.

“Um, no, a regular baby, flesh and blood like you.”

Maggie's relief was palpable. “Thank god. Not that I don't love you, Bonnie,” She hastily added before I could tell her that I was pretty sure she shouldn't say ‘thank god’ like that. “It's just, you know.”

“I almost killed our father when I was formed? Yes. I am also somewhat relieved that our new sibling will be human.” Bonnie’s voice was flat, devoid of her characteristic joy. “Assuming that it is a normal pregnancy, and you are not the one carrying the child somehow.”

My mother and fiancé both snickered. “No,” I replied emphatically. “I am not pregnant, thank you very much.”

“Again, dear.” Molly corrected, all sweetness. “You're not pregnant _again_.” She laid her free hand over her abdomen. “This time it's my turn.”

“That is…almost as concerning. Isn't it, dad?” The pinpoints of her eyes bored into me.

Of course it was, but I wasn’t inclined to discuss how we might be causing a global catastrophe in front of Maggie, so I laughed it off. “Can you stop worrying and just focus on the good for right now? Grandma is alive, Molly’s going to be your step-mom and you’re going to be a big sister. Just let that be enough for today, okay?”

“Of course.” Bonnie agreed, but she didn’t sound very convincing. “I must just be tired. Congratulations.”

Our growing family talked excitedly in the kitchen for a little while, discussing baby names and what he (or maybe she) would look like, and wedding plans (everyone was just as surprised as I was to find that we’d be married in two weeks time) and a very edited story of what grandma had been up to. I washed up the breakfast dishes and tried to hold tight to the moment we were in rather than worrying about the future. Around 2:30 Margaret excused herself to go back to Arctis Tor. Apparently she would be missed if she was gone too long and that wouldn’t end well for any of us. After a brief discussion, Molly and I suggested that Maggie might like to head over to the Carpenters’ early to play since it was such a beautiful day outside. It was Sunday and we’d be heading over for dinner but it wasn’t unusual for her to go over before us and we had some heavy discussions that would be easier with her out of earshot. Bonnie excused herself as well, leaving Molly and me in the kitchen alone.

After an hour we’d concluded the following:

-We were definitely getting married and keeping our child.

-We were opposed to the world ending as a result.

-We were not willing to find a new host for the Lady’s mantle.

-We’d both like to personally kill Mab but didn’t want all-out warfare.

-We had no idea how to accomplish this and had to admit we needed help.

“If I suggested we skip dinner with my parents to meet up with Sarissa and figure this out…”

“I would point out that we’re already not giving them much notice. Two weeks seems like the least we can do.” I finished. Molly groaned and put her head down on the coffee table. Books were strewn about, but they'd all been unhelpful so far. “The world isn’t going to end today. This is urgent but not so urgent that we should lose sight of what’s important.”

“The world not ending seems pretty important.” She countered.

“Molls,” I took both her hands in mine. “If I’ve learned anything, it’s that with us there is always, always, _always_ some other cataclysmic event around the corner just waiting for us to fix it. And we always will. But I want you to do something for me. For the next two weeks, even if it’s just for a few hours a day, I want you to try to just let yourself be happy.”

“I’m _already_ happy, idiot.” She said with a weary smile. “But I can't pretend that everything's fine.”

“That's exactly what you can do.” I passed my thumbs back and forth across her knuckles. “Look, these next few months, who knows what's going to happen. Maybe everything will work out like clockwork, maybe it will be a huge disaster, but either way, for the rest of our lives, these will be the weeks we planned our wedding. This is the only time we will ever get to tell our friends and family we’re getting married, the only time you'll ever shop for a wedding dress with your mom and sisters, that we'll ever write our vows and exchange rings and all that stuff.” I planted a kiss on her brow, then her nose, then her lips. “When you remember our wedding, I want you to remember the love and happiness that surrounded it and only the good, for the rest of our days.”

She sniffled, ducking her face. “Don't start thinking your sappy speech got to me. Your son is just messing with my emotions.”

“Whatever you say, Molls.” I punctuated with a kiss to her bowed head.

“…Last week I cried at a commercial for car insurance.” More sniffling. “Because there was a dog in it. And it made me think about how lucky we are to have Mouse.” Tearful laughter. “I thought I was losing my mind. Turns out it was just your jerk kid.”

“Hey, don't call my son a jerk.”

“He can't help it. He gets it from his jerk dad. Always saying stupid things and making me cry.” I tilted her chin up so I could see her watery smile and couldn't stop myself from capturing her lips with my own. It felt like our first time all over again, the way she melted against me, the taste of her tears on her lips as she met me. She chuckled when we pulled away, obviously thinking the same. “Careful. That's exactly what got you into this whole mess in the first place.”

“Ah, I see. It was all because of that one kiss? You never would have fallen for me otherwise?”

Her eyes sparkled. “I think we both know that happened a long, long time ago. The kiss is just what sealed your fate. Once I knew how your lips felt against mine, I knew I’d do anything to have you all to myself.”

“And now that you have me, are you happy with what you got?” My hands wandered over her hips, massaging my way up her back. “Or is it more than you bargained for?”

“Mm. I think. I got. The better end. Of the deal.” She choked out between gasps and nearly-sexual groans as I kneaded along her spine. “Mmmm. New suggestion. Skip dinner with my parents. You do this forever.”

“Counteroffer. We go tell your family we’re getting married, then we come home and I continue this properly upstairs with both of us considerably nuder.” She whined when I stopped and gave me the wide-eyed, pouted-lip stare she always used to try to con me into something. “Nuh-uh. Come on, if we don’t get ready now we’ll be late, and since I’ve been thoroughly lectured several times in the last day by my own mother, I’m not eager to get it from yours.”

There was more grumbling and groaning but when I trooped upstairs to change into not-slept-in clothes, she followed. I was expecting her to insist on formal or at least respectable attire, after all, this was a special occasion. So, I was surprised to find her in cut-off jean shorts and a halter top that she was practically falling out of. She'd pulled her hair up into a ponytail and the combination made her look, well, it made her look young enough that I felt like the dirty old man I was for appreciating it anyway. “Get a good look now.” Molly cautioned. “I can already barely fit in these jeans. Pretty soon it'll be stretch pants and moo-moos.” She adjusted her bra. “Well, at least my boobs will look awesome even if the rest of me becomes a hideous amorphous mess. You’re a boob man anyway, right?”

“All men are boob men. Who doesn’t like boobs?” I pulled on a plain black t-shirt. “But it doesn’t matter because being pregnant doesn’t make you some kind of deformed monster. You’ll be just as gorgeous when you’re 9 months along as you are now.”

“I’m going to remind you that you said that when I’m huge and gross and covered in stretch marks.” She finished applying her lipstick with a smack of her lips. “Anyway, I’m going to enjoy my current wardrobe for as long as I can. I’m pretty sure that once you buy your first pair of mom jeans, you can never go back.” She said it light-heartedly, but I couldn’t help but notice the tense lines at the corners of her lips, the slight quiver to her brow as she stared at her own reflection. She smoothed them away quickly before she turned around to look at me and I pretended I hadn’t noticed for now. All I could give her now were words and they wouldn’t mean anything. I would need to show her that I meant it, that she would always be beautiful and desirable to me, no matter what.

We weren’t quite late, but everyone was already seated when we arrived and Charity was setting the last bowl down on the table. I met Michael’s eyes from across the room the moment we entered, and somehow he instantly knew. The way Molly and I had practically bounced through the door, both bubbling with excitement and smiling at each other like lovesick teenagers might have helped. “Molly,” He rumbled, getting to his feet. “You’re looking very well today.”

“Thanks, Papa.” Her winsome smile lit up the whole room. “I’m feeling very well. It’s a wonderful day.”

“And Harry? Has your day been wonderful, I wonder?” He winked and I laughed.

“It has, although,” I looked at Molly with all the affection and love I had in me and raised our hands, where my right held her left, her engagement ring glimmering in the early evening light streaming in through the windows. “I think the best is yet to come.”

A dozen voices all clamored for attention at once, the entire Carpenter family descending on us in a swarm of congratulations and well-wishes. I’m not sure if I’d ever been hugged so much by so many people in such a small span of time, but it was welcome. Dinner was completely forgotten as the women of the clan all gathered together toward one side of the table, Molly excitedly recounting the (slightly edited) story of my proposal. Michael slung one arm around my shoulders. “I must confess, it’s still strange for me, Harry.”

“Ha. It’s still strange for me. I uh, honestly I don’t know if I would be as understanding if the situation were reversed.”

“Of course you would.” He looked over at me with a satisfied smile. “The first time a young man shows up at your door for Maggie, you’ll want to wring his neck. I suggest you resist the temptation, though it doesn’t hurt to let him think you might give in. But in time you’ll realize that all little girls eventually grow up, and try though you might, there will always be another young man. All you can do is pray that she finds one who will treat her well, value and respect her and above all, truly love her for the priceless jewel that she is.

“I’ve been praying that prayer for a long time for our Molly. She’s struggled so much, I feared…well, I feared many things for her. We all did. But I should have had faith. The Lord always answers our prayers, Harry, even if it isn’t always apparent right away or in the way we expected. You’ve been an answer to many of my prayers, my friend. It shouldn’t have surprised me to have you answer this one as well.”

He pulled me into a rough embrace and masculine pride be damned it was so comforting I didn’t want it to end. “Thank you, Michael.”

“Please, we’re about to become family, call me dad.” I startled, practically stumbling back from him until I caught the mischievous look on his face and he broke out into boisterous laughter. “I'm sorry, forgive me, I couldn't resist.”

Eventually, Charity declared that dinner was going to be stone-cold by the time we got to it at the rate we were going and we all took our cue to be seated. It was amazing, as always. The only topic on anyone’s lips was, of course, the wedding. Amanda and Charity both looked like they were about to have a stroke when Molly told them that yes, we had already set a date and it was June 21st. Yes, of this year. Yes, as in just under two weeks from now. We told part of the truth – Winter wasn’t big on marriage and we wanted to choose the day when our mantles were weakest. We left out that the Queen would probably kill us when she found out and that we hoped to be married before Molly was visibly pregnant. When asked why we didn’t just wait until June 21st of the following year, Molly replied, “Because next year it won’t be a Saturday. Plus, I waited long enough for him, I don’t know if I can possibly wait any longer.” She leaned her head on my shoulder. “I’m ready to be Mrs. Molly Dresden for the rest of my life.”

After the third time someone had asked me a question that I could only answer with ‘buuuuuuhhhhh???’ Molly explained that I’d just asked last night and we hadn’t really discussed most of the details which was true, although I’d already told her that I wanted her to plan her dream wedding. Whatever she wanted, that’s what we’d do. The hardest part of the night was avoiding accidentally mentioning our other piece of unexpected but happy news. Maggie had been confused but agreed not to say anything. But of course the words ‘shotgun wedding’ were suggested more than once, especially with our short engagement period. Each time we both just laughed it off and tried not to sound nervous. By the time we'd finished dessert and said our goodbyes, I was relieved for the peace and quiet back at our house. We turned in early, and after the past few nights of stress and fighting and nightmares, that was just fine by me.

It was for the best since there wasn't much in the way of peace from that point on. There was so much to decide and do. I wanted Molly to have the wedding she'd always wanted, but she tried to make compromises at every turn. The giant church wedding in the white dress with the long train and a million people in attendance was thrown right out the window. Her first suggestion was that we just go to the courthouse, bring her parents, Margaret and Thomas to witness and let that be that. “Is that really what you want?” I asked.

“What I want is for you to be my husband. Honestly, I don’t care how it happens, as long as it happens.”

“You only get one wedding, Molls. I know we’ve got unique circumstances but I don’t want you to make decisions you’ll regret ten, twenty, thirty years down the line.” I'd gotten too close to the dishwasher, so I was washing the dishes by hand while Molly dried them beside me. “Other than marrying me in the first place, of course.”

“Oh of course. I’ve only been waiting to do that my entire life.” She smiled indulgently. “What can we really do, Harry? This is a dangerous, crazy idea that I'm only going along with because we're royally screwed anyway. Our best chance of survival is to do it as low-key as possible, without fanfare, and with as few witnesses as possible since anyone who knows is basically an accomplice. A quick civil service makes the most sense.”

“Does it though?” I asked. “You know what there will be a lot of at the county courthouse? People. Humans. Potentially, bystanders.”

“Bystanders?”

“Your mantle reacted very strongly to prior attempts to make you less of a lady, right?”

“For all the good that did.” She replied wryly.

“What if it reacts just as strongly to a marriage vow? To changing from Miss to Mrs.?”

You'd think someone so pale wouldn't be able to blanch, but Molly found a way, her skin becoming almost translucent. “God, you’re right. I hadn't even considered that.” Her eyes were unfocused for a moment then she shook her head. “There's no precedent for it, but I don't think it'll be an issue.”

“There's pretty high stakes in a courthouse if you're wrong. And, we don't know how soon She'll find out. For all we know She might know instantly. You really want a bunch of vanilla mortals around if ‘Mother’ shows up?”

“Of course not,” She snapped. “But what choice do we have? You think Forthill's going to welcome two wizards, one of whom isn't even human, who are living in sin and don’t worship his god into his church to get married? Even assuming by some miracle there's a single church in a 2000 mile radius that isn't already booked solid for every Saturday in June.” I gave her a moment to calm down before I replied. The mood swings had gotten better, or at least Molly had gotten better at recognizing that they were mood swings and usually caught herself when she was overreacting or otherwise being irrational. As someone with a Y chromosome, I had learned it was not my place to point these things out, but rather to just silently appreciate when she reached the same conclusion herself.

Once she had, I suggested, “Does it have to be either church or courthouse? People get married all over the place these days. Hell, we could do it in our backyard if you want.”

“And who is going to perform this backyard wedding, hmm? You got a spare clergyman lying around?” She asked with an arched eyebrow, then tapped her fingers thoughtfully on the side of the glass she was drying. “Still, outside isn't a bad idea. Exposed to the heat and the sun, enjoying the beauty of summer? That might work best. And somewhere without a ton of people nearby to be safe. It might be doable. I'll look into what's legally required and we can go from there.”

“Don't take this the wrong way but, does it need to be legally binding? Any vows we exchange are going to be bound by much more powerful authorities than the state of Illinois.”

Molly shook her head. “I don't want any chance for loopholes. Not that I think you’ll break your vows or anything,” She added quickly at my sour expression. “I just want as many ties as possible when the Queen finds out. I don't want her to find some way to dissolve it on a technicality. And no matter how good I am, she'll always be better at the word games we play. Mortal law wouldn't be enough by itself but combined with other oaths, it might be.” She had another thoughtful pause. “And if we're married within Chicago city limits, it's a bond legally recognized and sanctioned by another Accorded nation.”

“Marcone. Hell’s bells.” I scrubbed at the stubble on my chin with one hand, making a mental note to shave when we were done. “I hadn’t thought of that. _Will_ he sanction it? More importantly, what's it going to cost us for him to keep his mouth shut?”

We both contemplated that in silence for a few minutes. When Molly answered, it was hesitant, as if she didn't dare say it out loud. “All things considered, I'm a very valuable ally to have and if all goes according to plan, I'll only be more valuable with time. I still owe him a debt. The favors he can ask of me only grow more desirable as my power grows.”

“You’re suggesting we just tell him? And what, hope he likes us better than her?”

She shrugged. “It's a suggestion. I don't like it but…he wouldn't risk much by just turning a blind eye, and he has the potential for significant gain. I think he'll go along with it. I'll talk to him.”

“ _We’ll_ talk to him.” I amended. “I'm not letting you bargain with Marcone by yourself.”

“’Letting’ me?” Her eyes flashed and I gulped. “I’m sorry, did I miss when I agreed to be your apprentice again so you could tell me what I can and can’t do? Or did you just think that this ring makes me your property?”

“That's not what I meant.”

“Isn't it? Is there a different definition of 'letting’ that I'm not aware of? One where you didn't mean you'd prevent me from doing something you didn't like as if you had any right?”

“No, I guess you’re right.” I quipped. “I did mean 'I'm going to stop my pregnant fiancée from going up against a criminal kingpin without bringing me along for backup because that's a really dumb idea’. Almost like I wanted to be there to make sure that she and my son were both safe.”

If her eyes had flashed before they were glowing now. “I have more power in one pinky than you have in your whole body. I have the wisdom and experience of centuries in diplomatic relations and negotiation. I can sense a man's energy, determine exactly what he's feeling, practically read his thoughts without even applying my magic. Why would I possibly need you for backup?”

I stood stunned, the only sound in the small kitchen was that of the soap bubbles in the sink slowly dissolving. It wasn't like she'd said anything I hadn't known, at least intellectually, but hearing it out loud like that…she was right. What good could I do? Lady Molly, or I guess Queen Molly, was more than capable of handling herself. She didn't need my help. She definitely didn't need my protection, for her or the baby. I was essentially useless to them both. I nodded, picking up the last dirty plate and scrubbing morosely. “Of course. Sorry to imply anything else. I'm just used to,” _playing the hero, keeping you all safe, having you at least pretend that you need me_ “being the big bad wizard. I forget sometimes that you're out of my league in more ways than one now.”

The temperature in the room raised by a few degrees and the fight went out of her in an instant. “Harry…” She made an apology of my name and let it trail.

“Dishes are done.” I needlessly remarked, wiping my hands on my jeans to dry. “I’m going to head over to Butters’s place. See what Bob has to say about everything. Other than giving me his lecture on the foolishness of monogamy and congratulating me on having proof that I still have a sex life.”

“Waldo and Andi are both at work right now, so unless you’re planning on breaking in again, that plan might need to wait.” Molly reached out to brush my forearm. “And you don't need to come up with an excuse if you want to leave.”

“It's not like that,” I lied. When she said nothing I exhaled sharply. “I wanted to at least do _something_ useful. This is something I can do for you.”

She took both of my hands in hers and looked up at me sternly until I finally met her eyes. “Just because I don’t need you to be my muscle, doesn’t mean I don’t need you at all, Harry.” She squeezed lightly. “If you want to come with me to talk to Baron Scumbag, please do. I don't need you to negotiate or fight for me, and in fact, I'd rather you didn't try either unless we have no other choice, but everything is better when you’re by my side. I will always need you, dork.”

It didn't fill the hollow pit of inadequacy I felt, but it helped. “Of course you will. Who else can reach to put that mixing bowl in the cabinet over the fridge?”

Her smile was too knowing for my taste, almost as if years of friendship and love had led her to believe that I masked my real emotions, especially the negative ones, with stupid humor. “I was thinking of some other things you do for me. Like, love me unconditionally. Make me feel safe and normal for once. Plus there’s that thing you do with your tongue sometimes that drives me wild.” She gave a suggestive wink and I found myself laughing.

“Stars, you’re perfect.” I brushed my lips delicately over the soft, cool silk of her own. “Your fiancé must be the luckiest man in the world.”

“See, there you go, driving me wild.” Any anger or stress was momentarily forgotten as her sparkling eyes searched mine. “What do _you_ want, Harry?”

“For life in general or right now? Because I’d love to show you some other things I can do with my tongue that –”

She slapped me playfully in the chest. “I meant for the wedding. You keep asking me what I want, worrying that I’m shortchanging myself. Do _you_ want a big fancy wedding?”

“It’s your day, Molls. I just want to make sure it’s one you’re happy with.”

“That was not in any way an answer to my question.” Her narrowed eyes didn’t quite distract from the goofy smile she was trying to hide. “And it’s _our_ day.”

“Weddings are for the bride. I’m happy with whatever you want to do.”

“Fine. Then let’s go to Vegas, right now. We can get married by an Elvis impersonator. How’s that sound? Everything you ever dreamed of?”

“Without our families? Also, do you know how much damage I would do in Vegas? It's nothing but electronics. And you don't even like Elvis. Why would we do that?”

“Because you allegedly don't have a single opinion on the wedding and what I want to do is be married to you as quickly and simply as possible.” Molly thumped one hand against my chest. “I will never regret how it happens because just being married to you is more than I ever honestly thought I'd have. But you’re right. We _will_ only have one wedding day. So if you have ideas about what you want it to be like, I want to know them. You keep saying you don’t care but methinks the maiden doth protest too much.”

“Hate to break this to you but we’re fresh out of maidens here,” I smirked which made her giggle. “I guess…I guess I was just picturing something more romantic than a quick justice of the peace. This is a marriage twenty years in the making, kid. I expected tuxes and dresses and some kind of ceremony. I dunno.” I shrugged, fighting to keep from blushing.

“Okay, officially no longer allowed to call me 'kid'.” She protested. “But sure. If you want to go more traditional, let's do it. I should have realized you’d be more romantic than practical, you big cornball.”

“The two aren't mutually exclusive, kid,” I said, in my best Bogart impression.

“Then what romantic yet practical suggestions do you have for our wedding, _daddy_?”

I clutched at my chest like I was wounded. “Low blow. Okay, well here’s what I was thinking…”


	7. Chapter 7

We spent most of the first week of our engagement making plans. Working on it together, we both started to get excited about the little details. Molly had been working from the concept that she’d make it as practical as possible and fill in all the wedding details later. Together, we started by finding what we wanted and then modifying that vision to make it as safe as possible. By Friday, we had a rough idea sketched out and it was just a matter of doing all the necessary footwork. Molly had excitedly told me that an outdoor wedding was perfectly possible, so all we needed was an officiant. We were both surprised when we mentioned this in passing to my brother, and he offered to do it himself.

“In what way are you qualified to officiate a wedding?”

“The legal way.” He disappeared for a moment and came back with a piece of printer paper declaring him 'Pastor Thomas Raith'. “I saw it online. It cost $15 and a couple of hours of my time. I thought it might come in handy.” When I continued to stare slack-jawed he added, “I was pretty drunk at the time.”

So that was settled. We debated the pros and cons of getting married in Chicago versus literally anywhere else. Molly, set on the idea that the more summery it was the easier things would be for us, even suggested a destination wedding to Hawaii or somewhere equally sweltering. But ultimately, Chicago was our home. It was our city as much as it was Marcone's. And we agreed that anywhere else just wouldn’t feel right. So it was that I found myself standing awkwardly beside Molly in an elevator, trying to think tech-friendly thoughts, on our way to meet with the Baron. It hadn’t actually occurred to me to schedule an appointment until Molly pulled out her cellphone and did so, so maybe she had a point about letting her handle the diplomatic stuff.

The doors opened and Hendricks led us through a series of narrow hallways, down a short flight of stairs, and finally into a room that I instantly knew was not Marcone’s actual office by any stretch of the imagination. Oh, it was impressive. Floor to ceiling windows made up two of the walls with a beautiful view of the skyline. The desk, probably real mahogany, was tidy but had evidence of use. The walls were tastefully decorated, a potted tree in one corner, the whole thing screamed 'power'. But this was not where Marcone would have normally done business – he was far too exposed. The reason he chose that particular room to meet with us remains a mystery to me, though I spent a good amount of time wondering.

“Lady Molly,” He met her at the edge of his desk, kissing her outstretched hand. She had carefully given him her right hand, and while she wore her engagement ring, she’d twisted it so the diamond was toward her palm, and added a variety of other rings on other fingers for effect. There were two chairs and he gestured for us to sit. After a stern glance from an already-seated Molly, I followed suit. “I confess I am intrigued by your visit. Usually it is your Queen who arranges our meetings. She must be quite busy.”

“The Queen of Air and Darkness is always busy, Baron,” Molly said with a small smile as he too sat back down. “But as it happens, my consort and I are here regarding a matter of a more personal nature.” I almost choked at the word 'consort' and poorly covered it up with a cough.

“As I recall, Ms. Carpenter, you already owe me a debt of favor.”

“Oh of course. One I’m happy to settle whenever you ask. Did you have something in mind?”

I kept a tight grip on my knees to resist lunging at him for the smug smirk he pointed at her. “Your people are always so eager to balance your scales. I’ve found it more advantageous to wait to cash in my favors until it’s to my greatest advantage. I hope you understand.”

“I understand perfectly.” Her voice was low and sultry, making promises that I fervently hoped she had no intention of fulfilling. “You’re a wise man. Who knows what the future may bring and how the winds of fortune may blow. Empires rise and fall. The tides of power are ever-changing. Even the highest crowns can change hands and heads.”

His face gave nothing away. “A fact that your _consort_ here has made the whole world pointedly aware of. Not that I haven’t gained from that struggle. I should really thank you, Dresden.”

“I didn’t do it for you, Johnny.”

If I hadn’t been looking directly into those money-green eyes of his I never would have seen it, the slight shift of something dark and hard in him. “I know exactly why you did it. But it doesn’t change the outcome.” He shifted his gaze back to Molly. “But I assume you didn’t come here to discuss the Fomor. So what can I do for you?”

“Mr. Dresden and I have decided to enter into a legal contract.” She said, confidently. If I didn’t know her, I would never have guessed how nervous she was. She controlled her body language as masterfully as her words. “Since we intend to do so here in Chicago, it didn’t seem right to do it without first informing you.”

“A legal contract?” He purred. From the glint in his eyes, he at least suspected what she meant. “A joint business venture perhaps? A construction permit on your shared home?”

“In the nature of a joint venture, yes.” She agreed. “A personal venture.”

“Molls, can we skip the word games?” Two sets of eyes turned to me, one amused, the other irritated. “Well, he's going to know when it slides across his overly-polished desk. What's the sense in dragging this out? Marriage. It's a marriage contract.”

And there was that crocodile smile I knew we'd get. “Making an honest woman out of your Lady, Dresden? I’ve never known sidhe to be a monogamous group, particularly those of Winter.”

“As I said, this is not Court business. This is personal.” Molly said primly, folding her hands in her lap. “He will remain our Knight. I will remain a Queen. We are already bound in a, let's say, professional capacity. But I am also human, underneath all of these sidhe trappings. Remove the mantle and I'm a mortal woman with a mortal woman’s desires, including marriage. That's why we’re here today. I still hold an Illinois driver’s license which lists me as a resident of Chicago. _Your_ city, Baron.”

“I see. And what exactly is it you wish for me to do, Miss Margaret Carpenter of Chicago?”

“Nothing,” I said, immediately drawing his attention. “All we want is for you to do absolutely nothing. You see, we weren't here today. No one saw us come in, no one's going to see us go out. So unless you and Kujo saw something, we never stopped by. Chicago's a big city. I'm sure you won't notice a single marriage license go through. After all, now that I work for Winter, we’re not rivals so I'm sure you don't keep a constant watch on me and my life, right? So you can just go about your business none the wiser. If, eventually, someone were to ask about it, you’d be well within your rights to say that while of course it is legally binding by mortal law, you had no idea it had happened.”

“Someone like your Queen, as an example.” The amusement was gone, replaced by cold calculation.

“Sure.” I glanced over at Molly. We'd discussed the plan thoroughly but I still didn't like it. “As an example, our current Queen.”

“And what price do you offer for my non-involvement?” I tried not to let him see me sweat at the edge of anger in his voice. Molly remained cool as a cucumber.

“We ask nothing and offer nothing in return.” She informed him. “This is merely a courtesy visit, Baron. You are, of course, free to do as you wish. See what you wish. Hear what you wish. Say what you wish.” Molly shrugged one slender, pale shoulder, bare skin exposed in her strapless dress. “Of course, it would be a shame if I did something to displease our boss before you could collect on my debt to you. Especially in light of recent events.”

“Clearly I haven't been keeping up with current events like I should. I must admit ignorance of anything that would make your untimely dismissal of service especially disappointing for me.”

“Haven't you heard? You must not be paying your spies well enough. There is unrest in the Winter Court. Rumors of a potential coup. Nasty business, of course, but it does put you and me in a new position, doesn’t it? In the unlikely event of their success, the Queen’s mantle passes to me. And a favor owed from a Queen is worth far more than a favor owed by a Lady.”

“Nasty business indeed. How can you be so sure that the same rebels would allow you to keep the throne?”

It was her turn for a toothy smile. “Oh, call it an educated guess.”

John Marcone stared across the desk at Molly for a relative eternity, and she sat still as stone, giving nothing away. I was proud of her, and also a little horrified. When he finally spoke it was one word. “No.”

“No?” She repeated, as if she couldn’t possibly have heard him right.

“Since you are not here in any official capacity, I’m going to dispense with the formalities. You two are planning to get married, without the permission or approval of your Queen, and you want me to look the other way because you believe that soon you will be Queen instead and you’ll be more valuable to me there than you are now. Did I get any of that wrong?”

“I'm already a Queen, dear Baron.” My skin started crawling at the implied threats that lingered in her dulcet tones. It wasn't quite Mab's voice coming from her lips, but it was close enough and I watched Marcone shift ever so slightly in his chair. “The least of the three, true. But you know as well as any of us how quickly things can change. Often the best way to survive is to ride out the waves. Those who resist are easily shattered by the force.”

“No.” He replied again. “I stand more to gain from alerting Mab to your plans and currying favor with her than I do from going along with you.”

I cracked my knuckles, started to rise, but Molly placed a firm hand on my arm, urging me to stay where I was. “I live to serve my Queen.” She snarled. “Do you know what the Lady does, Baron? What my Queen commands of me?”

“Frankly, I don’t know or care, Ms. Carpenter. Get out of my office, both of you. I have enough concerns without being dragged into fairy politics.”

“She orders me to collect her tribute. Any idea what Winter requires in tribute?”

“Undoubtedly something awful, I'm sure. Now if you'll excuse me, Hendricks will show you out.”

“She requires children, John,” I said it quietly. Molly bowed her head. Hendricks who had been on his way to physically remove us if we didn't go willingly froze, watching his boss. Marcone had fire in his eyes, and I took it as a sign to continue. “I've seen it myself. God help me, I've helped her do it. The Winter Court fights an endless war and our Queen requires an endless army. It's easier to start training them when they're just kids, you know?”

That hit a nerve alright. “Think carefully, Dresden. Are you telling me that you have stolen children from their parents to turn them into soldiers?”

“They give them up, but that’s mostly semantics.” I took hold of Molly’s hand. “Winter Law, the Queen’s Law, binds us all. We can’t shirk our duties no matter how badly we want to. So yeah, even though neither of us _can_ say such a thing as loyal subjects, we understand why there are those among us in favor of a new Queen.”

“…God damn you, Dresden.” He shook his head, muttering to himself in what I assume was Italian. “Mr. Hendricks, call Gard, tell her to meet us in our usual locale. Dresden, Carpenter, get out. Make sure you're not seen. You were, after all, never here.”

“Thank you, Baron.” Molly rose, shaking his hand firmly on our way out. “I look forward to working with you in the future.”

Molly planned to buy a dress, and since money was no longer any kind of object for us, it made sense enough to me. So when Charity showed up at our house a few days after we'd announced our engagement with a tape measure and several different kinds of white fabric samples, we were both surprised. Reluctantly, Molly agreed that, if it meant so much to Charity (and it did) she would be happy to wear something handmade. I don’t think it really mattered since Charity hadn’t waited for Molly’s approval before she started taking measurements. While she measured she kept up a steady stream of questions: how long did she want it, what style, sleeveless or not, strapless or not, how did she want the neckline, was she going to wear heels with it, would her hair be up or down, did she know what the bridesmaids were wearing yet and oh, had she decided what exactly she was going to put me in to make me look presentable…etc. I had taken a seat on the couch, ostensibly reading my book, but when I caught Molly's eye during the barrage of questions we both smiled at each other.

“Mama, can we sit down? I can show you a couple of the dresses I've been considering and maybe we can go from there, okay?” The two sat down in the big wingback chairs and Molly produced her phone, staying safely away from me, presumably pulling up photos. “I've been leaning toward this one.”

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. That's more than we paid for the down payment on the house!” She took the phone from her daughter. “It's also not a wedding dress.”

“Any dress can be a wedding dress if you wear it to your wedding,” Molly argued. “It's classic but still a little modern. My favorite style.” She winked at me and Charity rolled her eyes.

“There's no accounting for taste. But if it’s what you want, I’ll do it. An ivory would probably be best, like this one, is that what you were thinking?”

“I um. I like the colors in the photo. I was thinking about not wearing a white dress.” Charity’s eyes narrowed at her daughter, who hastily kept stammering. “M-my hair and skin are too, um, too pale, now that I’m Wintery and all, y'know? I'll look all washed out. White really isn't my color.”

The narrowed eyes turned in my direction and I tried to look like I was very invested in the paperback in front of me and had in no way defiled her precious child. Hopefully the book was large enough to cover my flaming cheeks. “Mm. And I'm sure that's the only reason, right?”

“What other reason could there be, Mama?” Molly asked, sounding ten years younger, the portrait of innocence.

Charity snorted. “If that's what you’re sticking with, fine. Your father might even believe it, bless his soul.” She sighed. “I'll need to buy more fabric either way. Are you free this afternoon?”

Molly and Charity spent quite a bit of time together over the next week, making secretive, hushed plans. I was not allowed to know anything about the dress before the wedding because it was 'bad luck’. When I pointed out that the superstition was just seeing the bride in the dress, not seeing the dress itself, I got matching glares and left before they started throwing things at me. I used the time to make myself useful however I could. For example, inviting our guests.

With such a short timeframe, we didn't trust to printed invitations. Also, we were a bit hesitant to have any more written evidence than necessary. So I made a round of calls instead. There was whooping and congratulations and 'I wondered how long it would take’s from Will and Georgia and more from Waldo and Andi. I left Ebenezer a message, cryptic enough that only he would know exactly what I was inviting him to and where. Then I dialed one more number.

“Harry.” Karrin sounded cautiously pleasantly surprised. “Everything okay?”

“Hiya Murph. Everything’s great. How um. How’s Sanya?”

“He's fine, last I checked.” She sounded faintly amused. “How's Molly?”

“She's…she's going to be fine. Already feeling a lot better I think. Thanks for asking and,” I sighed. “For everything. I'm sorry about –”

“I know, Harry. So does Sanya. It's over. Let's just put it behind us.”

“Wow, just like that?” I joked. “Sanya must be a good influence on you, Karrie.”

“So help me, Dresden, I will drive over there and give _you_ a broken nose.”

“You gonna bring your step stool to reach me, short stuff?”

“I already chipped one of your teeth, you looking for another?” We both laughed, until she added, “So what's the bad news?”

“What bad news?”

“The bad news you’re buttering me up for. Who are we going toe to toe with now?”

“Maybe my boss. We’ll see how it goes. But really I called to see if you're free Saturday after next, the 21st.” There was a rustling in the background before she confirmed that she didn't have any plans that couldn't be moved around. “You do now. If you want to that is.”

“Sure, you two having a barbeque or something?”

“Or something.” I forced myself to keep talking before I lost my nerve. “We're getting married.”

“…” I was worried that she was going to be angry, or worried herself. After all, hadn't it only been a handful of days since she told me that Molly and I weren't safe for Maggie? Instead, I could hear the smile in her voice. “You knocked her up, didn't you?”

“That's not why we're getting married.” I hissed and she just laughed.

“Yeah, but you did, didn't you? You wouldn't be marrying her if you didn't know for sure that she wasn’t going to keep being a danger. Sick, tired, crazy mood swings. She's got a bun in her oven and you’re the baker.”

“Okay, yes but shhh.” I glanced nervously around the room like someone might wander up behind me and magically overhear her. “We aren't telling anyone yet. It's dangerous just to know about it.”

“Sounds like you've had an exciting week.”

I leaned my forehead against the wall. “You don't know the half of it, Murph. My head's spinning from all the plans and plotting and worry.”

“Yeah, but you’re happy anyway.” It wasn’t a question and I could hear her grin.

“So fucking happy,” I agreed. “In a way, this is everything Molly and I have ever wanted, minus the potential for global catastrophe and watching over our shoulders for our boss to come kill us.”

“I’m glad. You both deserve some happy.” Bittersweet regret hung between us for a heartbeat, the knowledge that once upon a time we'd thought we were headed to our own happily ever after, but it was gone just as quickly as it came. “Congratulations. Of course I'll be there. Assuming the future Mrs. Dresden is okay with that.”

“You were the first person she put on the guest list.”

We had a lot of fun those two weeks, putting together a ceremony, deciding what I'd wear, picking out decorations. I don't remember which of us started it, but we got in the habit of leaving 'the latest draft' of our vows lying around the house. _Harry, you'll do I guess. But don't expect much. – Molly._ Or _I vow to love you forever, unless you try to force me to watch Star Trek again, which is immediate grounds for divorce. -Harry._ But it wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows. Mom stopped by regularly, giving us progress reports on her research and her attempts to recruit for our cause. It was nice to see her, but the constant worry of what the future held was always worse after she left.

My weekly run with Thomas started with a punch to the shoulder, hard enough that it hurt even me. “That’s for not telling me about Ebenezer.” Before I could recover he gave me another to the gut. “And that’s for giving me zero warning about Margaret.”

When I could breathe again, I said: “I was going to but she wanted to tell you herself.”

“She stopped by last night.” He stared out over the lake. “Is it really her?” I nodded and he spit. “Damnit. I was hoping I was wrong. But she knew things that you'd have to have told her. Things you wouldn't have told just anybody.” 

“Crazy isn't it? Mom, still alive after all these years.”

“Yeah. Crazy.” Thomas replied flatly. “Hey, let's race today.”

“I would but I think someone just bruised all my internal organs.”

“Don't be a pansy. I was going to aim for the face but I thought Molly might kill me if you had visible bruises in your wedding photos.” A roguish grin spread across his face. “Last one to the pavilion buys lunch!” He took off without another word, leaving me frowning at his back. Any further attempts to discuss our mother were met with equally elaborate attempts at changing the subject, and when I brought him up to mom, she just said they had a complicated relationship.

There were other less than great moments. For example, a couple of days before the wedding Michael and I were out in his workshop with the door open, watching the kids play in the yard. School had already closed for summer, and there was a very active game of pretend going that seemed to involve knights with laser pistols (which looked suspiciously like water guns) and also cowboys with space ships? I was only paying enough attention to make sure no one got hurt. Michael had been overjoyed when I offered to help with his current project. I had no idea what it was, but I figured I might as well make myself useful since I'd been summarily shooed out of the house so Molly could model her dress. So far it was mostly me holding the boards still while he sawed, or holding pieces together for him to nail.

“Are you nervous?” Michael finally asked, wiping the sweat from his brow on one sleeve.

“About the wedding?” I asked, as if he could have meant anything else. He inclined his head. “Nah. Nervous about how our boss is going to react. But no. I’m looking forward to it.”

“Its normal, I'm told, for a man to be nervous before his wedding. It's a big commitment you're making.”

“Were you nervous? Before you married Charity?”

“Me? I was terrified.” My surprise must have shown on my face because he chuckled. “I was terrified that I would make a mistake, that I wasn’t enough for the brilliant, beautiful, amazing woman I fell in love with.”

I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding, laughing myself. “Okay, yes, that I can understand. I can only hope my fears are as unfounded as yours were. But the marriage itself? Michael, I’ve never been more sure of anything in my entire life than I am of marrying Molly.”

I don't know what warm fatherly piece of advice or sentiment Michael had opened his mouth to say because at that point the backdoor to the house banged open and Molly streaked towards us in nothing but a bathrobe with Charity on her heels. “Just, let me go!” The younger of the two yelled, snatching away her arm when Charity tried to grab it. “Don't! I don't want to stay here and embarrass you more!”

“What's going on?” Michael was instantly at the door, wiping wood dust on his pants. I had a sinking feeling I knew more or less what was going on, but stayed silent, just taking the angry, sobbing Molly into my arms when she got near. “What happened?”

“Oh, what happened indeed?” Charity roared. I gulped as Molly pressed her face harder against my chest. “Molly, would you like to tell your father what you shouted at me and your sisters just now?”

My lover cringed, and I held her tighter. “Charity, please,” I started, managing a remarkably calm voice for all the fierce, protective anger I felt.

“No, Dresden. Not a word from you. You’ve already done quite enough.”

Michael repositioned himself so that he stood partially between Molly and me and his wife, putting his hands on her shoulders. “Darling, whatever’s happened we can work through it. Just one of you tell me, what is going on?” Eminently reasonable.

“Your fool of a daughter is pregnant!” Silence fell. I would have worried that time itself had stopped if it weren’t for the way Molly shook against me. As if in slow motion, I saw Michael turn to us both, fury like a thousand suns burning in his eyes as he looked at me, and a soft, supremely disappointed, almost haunted stare when he slid down to his daughter. In the silence, she turned to look at him, and he reached out to wipe the tears rolling down her cheeks.

“Is that true?” He barely breathed the question, and she nodded. “Oh, Molly “ It was a despairing sound, like his heart was breaking and she didn’t stay to hear more, pushing us all aside and bolting. I wanted to run after her, but there was suddenly a large hand full of thick calloused fingers pressed against my chest. “My daughter, Harry. My little girl.”

“Michael, you have to believe me, I never–”

“I _have_ to believe you?” He bellowed. “I _can't_ believe you! I have been tolerant, supportive even, of this relationship, even though you are _14 years her senior_ and she is my child. I have prayed night after night for the ability to accept this as His will. The ONLY thing I have asked of you, is that you respect and care for her. And you couldn't even do that. Couldn't restrain yourself until you were wed?”

I spread my hands. “What do you want me to say? I _do_ respect her. I _do_ take care of her. I didn’t force myself on her. I’ve never done anything we didn't both want.”

“So you two wanted her to get pregnant with your bastard child?” Charity chimed in. “You wanted this shotgun wedding?”

I went cold with fury. “I would appreciate it if you watched your words regarding my children, particularly where Maggie can hear you. And no, we didn't plan for your future grandchild. Molly shouldn't have been able to get pregnant, as the Winter Lady. If we knew she could, we would have been more careful. This is _not_ a shotgun wedding. As your husband can verify, I've been planning to ask for your daughter’s hand for months. Now, unless there's anything else you'd like to accuse me of, I'm going to go track down the mother of my child to make sure she isn't too worked up about her parents treating her like a whore.” I stalked out without another word, heading for our house.

“Daddy?” Maggie called, catching up to me and grabbing the sleeve of my duster. “She’s up there.” I followed her tiny hand and under different circumstances, I would have smiled. Of course, she'd gone to the treehouse.

“Go away,” Molly mumbled before I could even knock on the trap door.

“Molls, it's okay, let's go home and–”

“Go away, Harry. I don't want to come out.” She sniffled. “Everyone knows.”

“So what? They were going to find out eventually. You weren’t planning on hiding little Luke forever were you?”

“…Go away.”

“You almost smiled for a minute when I said 'Luke', didn’t you?”

“Harry?”

“Yeah, Molls?”

“Go. The hell. Away.”

I flopped myself down in the grass in the Carpenters’ backyard, exhausted and frustrated. Michael and Charity were having a heated argument still in his workshop and I couldn’t be bothered to feel sorry for either of them. I laid on my back, watching the clouds race past as the midday sun slowly worked its way to evening. After some time, Michael dragged a chair over and sat down next to me. “I’m afraid if I lay down beside you there’ll be no getting up.” I made a grunt of acknowledgment, nothing more. “I’m not going to apologize to you, Harry.”

“S’fine,” I mumbled. I had, after all, slept with his little girl. A lot.

“You lied to me.”

“Technically I didn’t. But, yeah, you’re right. Molly’s idea. Seemed to think you’d freak out. Wonder why?”

“Did either of you consider that if you never,” he cleared his throat uncomfortably. “fornicated you wouldn’t have to lie? I wouldn’t 'freak out'?”

I laughed bitterly. “Michael, I spent years avoiding even looking at let alone 'fornicating’ with Molly. In part because I didn’t think she was ready, and in part because I respect you and knew how you would feel. But the heart wants what it wants. I understand what your holy book says, but Molly and I have always followed a different code. Something about not suffering a witch to live didn’t appeal to us. I promised to respect your daughter and I have. I’m not ashamed of anything we’ve done and, until today, I don’t think Molly was either. So it's fine if you don’t want to apologize. But if you came over here expecting one from me, you’re going to be disappointed.”

He sighed. “I didn't mean to upset her. I just worry.”

“You’re her dad. It's what we do.”

“I just want what's best for her.”

“You and me both.”

“I want her to be happy.” He shifted in his seat. “ _Is_ she happy? About the baby?”

“Right now I think she's a little overwhelmed by it. It shouldn't have been possible. And the 'morning’ sickness has been kicking her ass.” I lifted myself up on one elbow so I could look at him, let him see the fierce pride and happiness I felt for this child already. “But in general, yeah, we’re both really excited.”

“Then,” he said, a tired smile spreading across his face. “I am too.”

“You hear that, Molls?” I raised my voice slightly. “Grandpa Michael is on board. You want to come down now?” A raised middle finger appeared in the window in response. “Alright. I guess I'll just wait here.” I laid back down, closing my eyes. “Do me a favor and let me know if your wife comes back out with a sword or a shotgun, huh?”

“I believe she said something about the nail gun, actually.” I opened one eye to see if he was kidding and couldn't tell. “Charity is worried about Molly too, but she has a mother’s fears. She sees a girl who has always been willing and eager to do anything she could to please you and she worries, well, she worries how far ‘anything’ would go.”

“I would never ask her to do anything she didn’t…” I trailed off at Michael’s knowing look. Right. Never might have been a strong word. “Okay, I see your point. I worry about that too sometimes. But this isn’t, it’s not like that. She didn't,” I flushed to the tips of my ears. “Get involved with me just because she knew I wanted her to.”

I took some solace in the fact that Michael looked at least as uncomfortable as I felt. “Yes, Charity has assured me that, well, apparently I can be 'selectively unobservant’ in that area. I think she meant the baby.”

“I didn't know I wanted another kid until she told me she was pregnant, and no one was more surprised by this than us, so I don't see how it could be about pleasing me.”

“Also, I’m not some starry-eyed teen,” Molly said, startling us both. She’d left her perch, walking across the yard with Maggie’s hand in hers. “I can make my own choices. And yes, sometimes those choices will be to make Harry happy, because he is about to be my _husband_. My parents raised me to believe that you should take your spouse’s happiness into consideration.”

I was on my feet with my arms around her so fast I saw spots. “Are you okay? Do you need me to–”

Despite her blood-shot, red-rimmed eyes she smiled and kissed me. “Still not a disability, Harry.” She picked a bit of grass from my hair. “I'm fine.”

Behind me, Michael cleared his throat. I stood back, hovering cautiously near my fiancée in case he set her off again. Molly said nothing, just staring him down with a neutral expression. “I uh,” He refused to meet her eyes. “I was thinking. We still have your old crib. It's seen better days, but nothing a bit of sanding and a new coat of paint couldn't cure. Of course, I understand if you want one of those newer ones that you can collapse and rearrange and – oof.”

Molly nearly took both of them to the ground, wrapping her arms around her father and burying her face in his shoulder. As soon as he recovered his balance, he put one solid arm around her and for a moment I saw them both ten years younger, when she was just a scared girl who for all her bravado, had broken down in her father's embrace. The way his eyes started watering, I think he was seeing the same thing. I almost jumped when my own little girl put her arms around my waist. “I don’t know why she’s hugging Mister Carpenter,” Maggie whispered. “You give the best hugs.”

I held her close. “You think so?” Her nod put a smile on my face. “Maybe there’s just something about dads that makes us good huggers.” _Probably that instinctive need to hold you tight in the hopes that you’ll stay this small forever and I’ll never have to let you go. Or worry about things like you making me a grandpa before either of us is ready for it._


	8. Chapter 8

I was braced for tension when we went back inside. I had tried to tactfully suggest that it might be a good idea to head home and give everyone a breather before reconvening, really hoping we weren’t about to have a repeat of Christmas. Molly declined, arguing that she at least needed to grab her clothes. It didn't seem worth pointing out that half of the time she was just running around glamored and should have no problem doing that for a trip down the block. She and Michael had talked quietly for a few minutes while Maggie and I gave them space, and they both came away in better spirits. The conversation died as Molly came in through the backdoor, still in her bathrobe, with the rest of us in tow. I half expected Charity to be waiting for me with a frying pan, but she was nowhere to be seen.

“In the attic,” Hank answered before Molly could ask. She took my hand and we walked up together, silently. I don't know what was going through her mind but I just kept reminding myself to bite my tongue and be civil, don't escalate the situation no matter what she says, just shield Molly as much as possible without making things worse.

I may have almost lit the hallway on fire when a mysterious box dropped from the ceiling to land with a heavy thud at our feet. I did _not_ “make a surprised 'Eek!’ like a Victorian woman seeing a mouse”, no matter what Molly says. You know how the sidhe are. Can't trust a damn word they say. “I did warn you I was going to be bringing – oh. Oh, I didn't expect you two.” Charity came bustling down the collapsible stairs with another box under each arm, pausing when she saw us.

“I came to apologize,” Molly said slowly, as Charity handed me one of the boxes, puzzling through her mother's reaction. “I think I overreacted and we both said things we didn't mean. Mom, what are you doing?”

“Going through old boxes. What does it look like?” She swatted at Molly's fingers as she tried to take the other box. “It's heavy.”

“I assumed. That's why I offered to take it. Why are you going through old boxes?” Molly looked at me, clearly wondering if she was missing something, but I was just as confused.

Charity tutted in disapproval. “You should know better. You shouldn’t be lifting heavy things in your condition.” Shutting the attic stairs, she continued into her bedroom with the box, placing it on the bed.

“Mama, I have super strength. I could lift a car without hurting myself or the baby.” I grabbed the first box she'd thrown down before Molly could attempt it (she was probably right but why risk it?) and, too curious to even remember to be upset, we followed. At a gesture, I set my boxes down beside hers. “I shouldn't have sprung this on you like that. I understand if you need time to process everything.”

Charity took a deep breath in and exhaled hard. “True, that is _not_ how I would have preferred to find out I'm going to be a grandmother. And I could have done without the shouting that followed, particularly with your sisters in earshot. But I should have known better. I've never been the most reasonable person when I was carrying you kids.” _Implying that you are when you're not pregnant?_ I narrowly avoided responding, but I was thinking it loud enough. She looked at her feet then at her daughter. “I didn't mean to make you feel…Molly, I am so happy for you.”

“ _I'm_ happy for me,” Molly replied in a tearful voice, looking up at me. “For us.”

“Oh, us indeed.” She put her hands on her hips. “Dresden, I am going to assume that you have been a complete gentleman with my daughter and that you didn't lay a single finger on her until you were at least already in a committed relationship. You had better pray that I never find out anything to the contrary because I would hate for my son-in-law to mysteriously go missing.”

“I wouldn't, um, that is we, Charity, uh–” I stammered before Molly saved me.

“He was always a gentleman and a half, Mama. I'm a bit ashamed to admit I put his chivalry to the test more times than I can count. He never took advantage of me. We were already in love the first time we acted on it.” Technically true, even if we hadn't really known it at the time.

“Good. Because they would never find the body, Harry.” She assured me, and I don't think she was joking. “Now, one of these boxes, ah, here we go.” There was a stack of books being shoved into my arms. “I know you've already got Maggie so you don't need all of these, but there's a few on pregnancy and early child development that you might want. Here, this one you'll want to read and…” She went on like that for a good five minutes, going through boxes and setting aside books and magazines. The more she talked the more excited she grew and I felt Molly gradually relax.

“Mama, I really do appreciate this, but I think we can hold off for a while on clothes, at least until we know for sure what the gender is. Right now maybe I could go get dressed?”

Charity looked at her daughter as if seeing her for the first time. “Oh, of course. And, don't worry about the dress. I'll make some alterations to give it a little more give.” She hugged Molly tightly, kissing her on the cheek and then surprised the hell out of me by turning and doing the same to me. “Congratulations. Know that we're here if you need anything, anything at all, either of you, alright?”

“I'm holding you to that in a year when we need a babysitter.” Molly teased.

“I look forward to it. The whole point of having you kids was so that I could one day have grandchildren to spoil rotten.”

I was up late, pouring over our new selection of books while Molly slept curled up at my side. Somewhere in the early hours of the morning she firmly took my book away, tossed it lightly across the room and placed one hand over my amulet, which I was using as my light source. “Go to sleep.” She murmured.

“I will. I just didn’t realize how much I didn’t know until I started reading. Did you know that during pregnancy –”

She opened one eye to glare at me. “Whatever you’re about to say, probably yes. Either way, this is not a case you need to research. We’ll have plenty of time for sleepless nights once he’s born. Until then, turn out your light and go to sleep.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

I pulled on my duster slowly, taking as long as I could. As if reading my mind, Molly said, “I wish you didn't have to go.”

“Me too,” I said to her wide blue eyes, full of sorrow and regret. “If I had any other choice, you know I’d take it.”

“I know.” She straightened my collar, pressed one hand against my chest. “Just be safe. I expect to see you tomorrow, alive and in one piece.”

I leaned down into a kiss filled with all the love I had, tender and lingering. “I’ll be there. No matter what. That's a promise.”

“Winter keeps its promises, Harry Dresden.” She reminded. “I'm going to hold you to that.”

“Augh. Would you two hurry up?” Will complained from behind me on the porch. “You’re not going off to war. It's a bachelor party.”

“I miss you already,” I told Molly, barely hiding my grin.

“Idiot. Have fun.” She kissed me again.

“You too. Don't get too drunk, huh?” The grin wasn’t even close to hidden now. Molly rolled her eyes.

“Go now before I change my mind about this whole 'marrying you' thing.” She gave me a light shove out the door but fixed my compatriots with an icy glare. I'm sure it was just a coincidence that a chilly breeze cut through the muggy June weather at that moment. “Alive and in one piece, gentlemen. You don't want to find out what will happen to you if you let something get in the way of our ceremony.”

“Don't worry Molly, we’ll take care of him,” Thomas assured her, and with that, I was hurried off to the awaiting vehicle.

I tried not to be worried. Really I did. It's just that every time I get too close to happiness, something comes along to wreck it. It had been over a year since anything truly big and nasty had shown up to destroy/enslave/eat Chicago, and I know it was crazy to think that somehow my impending wedding would attract that kind of trouble (well, other than Mab) but I hated the idea of letting Molly out of my sight until the very second we said 'I do.' I definitely wasn’t in the mood for strippers and the wild, raucous partying that my brother had promised me would be happening, despite my objections. “My god, Harry. Would you at least smile?” Waldo said, nudging me.

“Sorry, sorry, I'm just…”

“Lamenting the end of your wild, carefree bachelorhood?” Suggested Thomas from the driver’s seat.

At the same time, Waldo added, “Stressed about the lifelong commitment you're about to make?”

But the voice that drew my attention was Will. “Worrying about her. We know. But she'll be fine, she's in good hands.”

“Remind me, how did your wedding day go?” I asked, glancing sidelong at him. “Because I seem to remember someone in your wife’s wedding dress trying to drown Murphy in the punch bowl.”

“Oh yeah, do you reckon the Winter Lady's going to interfere with your wedding too?” He said archly. “Try to marry you off to her second in command?”

_Since her second in command is either my mother or my godmother?_ “I really hope not.”

I refused to wear the blindfold while we drove, especially since we were in Thomas’s behemoth gas guzzler and the windows were tinted so dark I wouldn't have been able to see out of them, even if I didn't have a Jedi obscuring my vision on one side and a werewolf on the other. But once we were parked it was made clear that I was either wearing the blindfold or fighting my way out of the vehicle. Because I'm a polite and considerate friend, I didn't point out that I _could_ fight my way out, with very little difficulty and that it would probably take all three of them to have a chance at stopping me. From the sounds of traffic, we were still in the city, but the highway was in the far distance. Trees rustled in the summer breeze, just a few, and a small dog was barking about a block away. All in all, I would have guessed it to be a much too fine neighborhood for a bar or strip club or anything else that my idiot brother was likely to have in mind.

We didn’t walk far, and I had started drawing on Winter slightly for the necessary sensory information to keep from tripping over snags in the sidewalk. My captors at least gave me warning when they turned me and required me to walk up a short flight of steps. A bird chirping nearby overhead. The metallic clinking of keys rattling against each other. Hmm. And then we were moving again and there was a close feeling, a stillness that made it clear we were inside. Orange scented wood polish and a strong cinnamon aroma. It was a homey sort of smell, warm and inviting…and familiar. I smiled. “Awful quiet for a strip club.”

“I never said strip club.” Thomas pointed out. “I promised a night of drunken, borderline-illegal debauchery. You assumed that included strippers.”

“It still might,” Will said lightly and I laughed.

“Not here. Georgia would kill us both if you brought a stripper home.” I took off the blindfold to confirm my suspicions. Sure enough, we were in the Bordens' dining room, complete with freshly cleaned hardwood floors. What I hadn’t expected to see was the half-wall made up of stacked cases of beer like a supermarket display. I whistled in appreciation.

“Give me a little credit, Harry.” My brother clapped me on the shoulder. “We all know how dangerous this is. It didn't seem like a good idea to drag you out in public and declare for all the world that you and Molly are tying the knot. A night in seemed more your style anyway. Although I can't and won't take credit for _this_.” He gestured at the table which was set up with an elaborate 3D battle map and a handful of carefully painted miniatures.

“You don't have to say it with so much disdain,” Waldo told him, taking his usual seat. “It's cool to be a nerd now, you know. We're fashionable.” Thomas gave him a skeptical look. “Oh, your reputation can take the hit of one night of roleplay.”

“I have a lot of nights of roleplay.” He said with a smirk, sitting down on the opposite side of the table. “Usually they don’t involve this many other guys.”

“Whatever you say, _Ravenius_.” I sat beside him. “Are Andi and Georgia okay with us playing without them?”

“I’ve got a one-shot, actually. Won’t affect the ongoing game.” Will took his place behind the DM screen at the far end of the table. “A special occasion gets a special campaign.”

And that is how I spent my bachelor party. Me and my stalwart companions had to fight our way through the ranks of enemies to rescue the fair princess from the evil queen that had kidnapped her so I could seek her hand in marriage. It was cute and I think we all had a blast, even Thomas. Of course, it could have helped that every time we took a hit we had to drink and every time we defeated an enemy we drained the bottle. We didn't quite make it through Thomas’s wall of beer but by the end of the night (or maybe the start of the morning) I’d lost count of how many I’d thrown back. I’d also lost the ability to count, or stand up without wavering, and I don't entirely remember how or if the campaign ended. The last thing I remember was a discussion about whether or not Waldo could beat someone to death with a dolphin, I think in-game and not in real life. I hope.

My next memory is of trying to remember why I didn't want to kill the tall, dark-haired man towering over me, shaking me awake. “Up and at 'em, sunshine.” I tried to kill him with my mind, but something, maybe the dull throbbing ache of my skull trying to explode, prevented it. “Come on, I'm not getting turned into a popsicle because you drank too much and showed up late to your own wedding.”

Unsurprisingly, it was a beautiful day. Sun sparkled off the waves which lapped against the side of the boat in the lightest of breezes, just enough to keep me from drowning in my own sweat in the black suit jacket. Both of us had been apprehensive at the idea of going out on the Water Beetle, since historically it had rarely worked out for, well, anyone really. But it made the most sense. No innocent bystanders, no accidental witnesses, no easy angle for ambush, and worst-case scenario, we could always retreat to Demonreach where we (or at least I) would have the home team advantage. You know, normal considerations people have when choosing a wedding location.

Standing in the prow with my brother on one side and my Best Murph on the other, I was glad for it. There was a peaceful beauty out on the lake, everything slowed down and settled, and for the first time in weeks, I was just plain happy, without any caveats. I probably should have been nervous, but I just couldn't be. Phantom violins started playing and across the deck, Maggie grinned at me. She had a crown of flowers, and more were woven into her hair. Combined with the green dress, she looked like some kind of wood sprite as she strode forward in careful steps, leaving flower petals in her wake. I didn't cry. I might have choked up a bit, but I didn't cry. She stayed standing beside me, directly in front of Thomas, and I kissed the top of her head. “You look very handsome.” She whispered and I smiled.

“Thanks, princess. You look very beautiful yourself.”

“Just wait til you see mom.” I still didn't cry, even though it made my heart jump every time she said 'mom’ instead of 'Molly’. The truth is, I'd already seen her quite a bit on the trip out. Upon my arrival, I had quickly been informed by several people, including my bride-to-be, that I was not to come above deck until we couldn't see land anymore. Since Molly was also below deck, I didn’t mind. I was confused by the t-shirt and jeans she was wearing until she pointed out that it was bad luck for me to see her in the dress before the wedding. I tried to peek through the glamour anyway but she was too good. So instead we just sat together, her head on my shoulder, and talked about our respective nights. Apparently, our secret was out – it was that or use violence to stop our friends from forcibly pouring liquor down her throat. But she'd had a good night. I told her my hazy recollections of my own. I was so comfortable I almost forgot why we were there until Thomas gave us the all-clear.

Alicia came next. The dress _was_ pink, but it wasn't hideous as Molly had originally promised. She too had flowers in her hair and was smiling ear to ear as she approached. “Last chance to run.” She warned as she settled on Thomas's far side. The music changed tempo and she winked. “Oops, too late.”

I still didn't cry, even when I saw Michael in a full suit, something I’d never seen before, leaning down to say something I couldn’t hear to the barely visible blonde head coming up the steps behind him. Even when she took his arm with a roll of her eyes and they both laughed at whatever she said in response. Even when she started slyly smiling at my huff of laughter when her conjured band started playing the 2nd movement to Vivaldi’s “L’Inverno” as her wedding march. Even when the most beautiful woman I had ever laid eyes on started walking towards me on her father’s arm, radiant as the summer sun above us, with her beautiful blonde hair swept up in what was sure to be an elaborate up-do, wearing her own flower crown. I still didn’t cry.

Then she met my eyes, halfway across the deck, and mouthed the words 'I love you.’ And, manly pride be damned, my vision went blurry until I blinked the tears away. I hardly collected myself in time to mouth, 'I know' back. Murphy elbowed me in the side, but Molly laughed. I will never in a million years forget that moment, my beautiful bride with tears in her eyes, lips parted in silent laughter, radiating pure love and joy. And then she was in front of me, this vision of perfection, this goddess (which at that moment had nothing to do with the mantle she bore.) The breeze blew a few wisps of hair across her face and without thinking I reached up to push them behind her ear. The scent of ripe honeysuckle and elderberries greeted me, sweet and inviting, and before I knew it there were a half-dozen laughs as I kissed her.

Thomas cleared his throat. “Traditionally that comes after, Harry.”

“Sorry. Couldn’t help myself.” I said, with absolutely zero remorse. We held hands while Thomas addressed 'the crowd' (her parents & my mom – it wasn’t a large boat, everyone else was meeting us at the reception) and while I’m sure that everything he said was great, I barely heard it. My sole focus was Molly, her smile, her eyes, the feeling of her hand in mine. I had never been this happy. It felt unreal, almost like a dream, but I knew it wasn’t. My subconscious had never rewarded me with anything half as wonderful. Molly watched me with a combination of quiet amusement and pure adoration. Eventually, she nodded almost imperceptibly toward Thomas.

I tuned in just in time to hear, “couple will share what I’m sure will be disgustingly sweet and sappy vows, assuming they're able to actually say them, otherwise this whole day is going to be pretty awkward. Harry, you kept her waiting long enough, you go first.”

“Oh. Uh. Sure. Um.” I swallowed, tried to force my brain to stop it’s sudden panicking and tell her what I wanted to say. “Hey, Molls.”

She laughed. “Hey, Harry.”

“So um. I was young. I hadn't even fully earned my P.I. license yet, and I found myself in an alley with three ghouls and I was very outclassed and overwhelmed. And just when I'm about to give up, this guy shows up in freakin' armor with a glowing freakin’ sword and takes the heads off two of them. The third one lashes out at him and takes a huge gouge out of his arm before I light the thing on fire and send it running. So, the poor guy is bleeding everywhere and he still, before anything else, checks to make sure _I'm_ okay. Because he is a ridiculously, sometimes infuriatingly selfless man, as I’d later find out.

“He's just saved my life, so I can't leave him there. I do my best to burn up any blood he's left behind, get him inside his truck and drive him back to his house, where his wife proceeds to tear us both a new one. I'm still trying to figure out what the hell is going on with these two, and I’ve decided I’m done with all of this and start storming out of the house when…I see this girl. A scrawny little beanpole of a thing, clearly eavesdropping, definitely up past her bedtime and she just stares at me. I’m about fifteen times taller than her, I’ve got enough anger brewing around me that I’ve already blown a light bulb, I mean, I’ve gotta be terrifying. But she just looks up at me in awe, like I’m a freakin’ unicorn or something.

“It was weird. And adorable. And, honestly, a little intimidating. Which in hindsight is a pretty good way to sum up most of my experiences with her to date.” This drew a laugh from everyone assembled. “And if you’d told me then that 20 years later I’d be standing here, marrying her? I would have probably knocked you out just for suggesting it. I don’t think anyone could have predicted this.”

“I did.” Thomas and Alicia said in unison.

“I don’t think anyone sane and reasonable could have predicted this. But now…nothing’s more obvious in the world. You have always looked at me like I was someone special, someone wonderful, even when I didn’t deserve it, even when you knew better. You’re the only person I’ve ever soulgazed who was just…concerned for me afterward. You have worked harder, done more, _been_ more than I ever expected or hoped for. Every single day of you being my apprentice, you made me proud. And now that you’ve spread your wings and left the nest, you still find new ways to make me proud. Proud to have been your mentor, but more importantly, proud to be your friend.

“So, there’s not a whole lot I can promise you that I haven’t already said a thousand times in private. But I want you to hear it now, with our family to witness. Molly Carpenter, I vow never to take you for granted again. I vow to be the husband you deserve, the father our children deserve. I vow to fill our home with love and laughter, and to support you however I can, no matter where the winds of fate may take us. I love you so much it scares me. When you look at me, the way you look at me, it lights a fire in my chest. Because I'm nowhere near the man you seem to see. I never have been. But you make me want to be. Above all, I vow to do everything I can to be worthy of your love and your faith in me. I promise to always try to make you proud to be my wife the way I’m proud to be your husband.”

Molly squeezed my hand, sniffled a few times, opened her mouth to speak and closed it again. My blood ran cold and I started to panic. We’d known this was possible, that the mantle might stop her from this kind of commitment, but to come so far and…she squeezed my hand again and shook her head slightly, smiling. “Just need a minute.” She cleared her throat daintily. “Sorry, you’re just…I love you so much, you idiot.” Before I could respond she threw her arms around me, practically tackling me and I caught her.

“No offense, but you two are bad at this,” Thomas said, laughing. “Molly, do you want to share your vows or should I just skip to the man and wife bit?”

Molly stepped back, composing herself with a grin. She looked about as sorry for the breach of protocol as I had been. “Other little girls read fairy tales with princes and fairy godmothers and castles and they swoon over the idea that someday their prince will ride in and save them. I always thought that was kind of dumb. Why wait around for a prince? You should learn to save yourself. Maybe teach that prince a thing or two when you meet him. Then again, you’ve met my mom. You can see where I’d get that from.

“So, it was more than a little mortifying when I literally needed to be rescued. From a castle. In Faerie. I was reduced to a damsel in distress in an actual fairy tale. And it was humiliating and terrifying, and one of the worst weeks of my life to date. But I learned something important from the experience.” I must have made a face because she blushed and added. “Okay, I learned _a lot_ of important things from the experience. Not to mention a few obsolete lessons.” My turn to blush. “But most of all I learned that love isn’t a prince riding in on a white horse to save you. Love is what comes after. Love is someone seeing you, seeing into your very soul, and not flinching. Love is unwavering support, and the reassurance that making a mistake, or multiple mistakes, or even a million mistakes doesn’t make you a bad person, as long as you keep trying not to make them. Love is being forced to do things you don’t want to do, but need to do anyway, like reconnecting with your family after you’ve been an alienating brat.

“You’ve told me before, Harry, that you think you loved me for much longer than you realized. I think that’s true. It hasn’t always been romantic love between us, but it’s been love none-the-less. You’re right, I have always tried to give more than my best for you, but it’s because you taught me to want to be better, to be selfless, to stand up and do what’s right and good, consequences be damned. You showed me time and again, that I can be more than what people expect me to be, that I should set my own expectations to live up to instead of worrying about what I might become. You showed me, and still show me every day, that some things in life are worth fighting for, even when the fight is with yourself.

“I never thought I’d have so much to fight for. Even a year ago, I didn’t believe I’d ever be here. Especially not with you. There were so many obstacles, I’d just given up. I…I think I gave up on a lot of things in the past few years, without realizing it. Until you showed up, and you started spouting all kinds of crazy nonsense, calling me beautiful, and strong and perfect…and, craziest of all, yours. Not that I’m not yours. I’ve been yours since that very first night I saw you. And you _were_ terrifying by the way. But the idea that after everything you’ve been through, everything I’ve done, what I’ve become, you could want _me_ to be _yours_? You could _love_ me? Crazy. But I’ve always been a sucker for your craziness.

“And the more I listened to your insanity, the more it started to sound real. Some days, I don’t like me very much at all. But when I look at you and you smile at me, I can’t help but see the Molly that you see. And the more time I spend with you, the more I think, maybe that Molly _is_ me. Maybe, as long as I have you by my side, I can be that Molly, one we both like. I guess, what I’m trying to say is that I like who I am with you. So, I vow to keep fighting for the life we’ve built, for our love and our family. I vow to protect and support you when you need it, and to let you protect and support me when I need it, even if it's hard to admit. I promise to be the best damn wife and mother I can be, though I obviously need some help since I've just said damn, twice, in front of the munchkin. I promise to always put you and our family first, over all other responsibilities. And I vow to always be yours, your Molls and yours alone, until the end of time and after.”

“…Wow. I um. I really want to say something snarky at Harry’s expense here because, well, how many times do you get to heckle your brother on his wedding day? But.” Thomas just looked at me, then looked back at Molly. “I’m too genuinely happy for you both to come up with something. This has never happened to me before.”

“Its normal for men of a certain age to have performance issues from time to time,” I said, with a smirk.

“Is it? _You_ always seem ready to go. With your sarcastic comments, of course.” Molly added, innocently.

Thomas shook his head. “Empty night. I’m second-guessing this whole thing now. Karrin, do you have the rings?” She did of course, and we took them in (I noted with some relief) equally trembling hands. “Do you, Harry Blackstone Copperfield Dresden, take Molly to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, for better or for worse, in sickness and in health, from this day on?”

“Of course!” I blurted, because my mouth is at constant war with my brain over what it should and should not say. “I mean, I do. Of course I do.”

Molly was laughing and crying at the same time when Thomas turned to her. “And do you, Margaret Katherine Amanda Carpenter, take this giant loveable idiot in front of you to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, for better or for worse, in sickness and in health, from this day on?”

“Of course.” She answered around her laugh. “I do. I so do.”

“Then repeat after me: With this ring, our lives intertwine as one. With this ring, we will share our strengths as well as our weaknesses. Our joys as well as our sorrows. Our love as well as our pain. With this ring, we are united. With this ring, I thee wed.” He paused at the end of each phrase and we repeated with mounting excitement. There was something almost frantic in both of our movements as we slid the rings into place. “Then by the power vested in me by the state of Illinois courtesy of BecomeOrdainedNow.biz, it is with sincere pleasure that I pronounce you husband and wife. Harry, you may now kiss your – right, that. You may now do that.” Technically I think my bride kissed me. Either way, we weren’t waiting for permission. She launched at me with a passion born of years of waiting to hear those very words, and I lifted her by the waist, spinning her around while we kissed.

And then there were a dozen different arms around us, voices raised in laughter and cheer. Charity voluntarily hugged me and I thought she might never let go. Alicia calmly informed me that if I did anything to make her sister unhappy, all of the magic in the world wouldn't stop her from kicking my ass. She sounded so sure of it, I believed her. Karrin punched me on the shoulder with a grin, proving that of those assembled she was still the biggest guy there, but didn't stop me when I folded her into a hug anyway. “Thank you. For being here and, well, for everything. I mean it, Murph.” I said over her head.

“Wouldn't miss it for the world. I've given up on the whole institution of marriage thing, but seeing the two of you.” She looked up at me, and it warmed my heart to see genuine happiness reflected on her face. “I think you can defy the odds. Congratulations, Harry.”

The conversations went on like that while Thomas steered us back toward the city and home. Once we got closer to civilization, Molly and I went below deck with Maggie and Alicia. The rest of our guests didn't outright say anything, but I knew they were standing lookout. We'd jumped the first hurdle, being able to make our vows to begin with. But just because we were able to get married didn't mean our troubles vanished. Mab could find out at any minute. If she was able to beam directly into Molly’s head to talk, it wasn't too hard to imagine she could do it to listen and learn as well. There was an undercurrent of nervous waiting threaded through all of our excitement as a result.

Molly didn't let go of me for the entire ride back. She was practically bouncing in her seat, beaming broadly. “Hey, husband?” She said casually, and when I turned she kissed me. “That's you. You're my husband!”

“Now and forever,” I confirmed. “Mrs. Dresden.” She made an elated squealing noise.

“You two are nauseating,” Alicia complained, but there was no real heat to it. She was clearly happy to see her sister finally happy.

“I think it's cute.” Maggie protested. Mouse whuffed in agreement.


	9. Chapter 9

The first step onto dry land didn't cause Mab or her minions to appear. Nor did the second. In fact, the entire walk to Thomas’s land whale was uneventful. My brother was polite enough to not say anything when, almost the second the doors closed, my wife climbed into my lap and we started necking like two teenagers at prom. It felt like we’d just left the harbor when he cleared his throat loudly and pointed out that we were home. “I'll give you two a minute to uh, compose yourselves.” He smirked. “But it looks like everyone else is already here so, whenever you’re ready.”

A weight lifted off my shoulders when we slipped past the familiar comfort of our wards and I felt Molly relax beside me as well. We both let out a little nervous laugh. “I don't want to jinx it but…”

“Yeah.” She agreed. “We might actually get away with this. At least for a little while.”

We stood at our back gate, holding hands. It sounds stupid but at that moment I thought I might just hold her hand for the rest of our lives. “It is with extreme pleasure,” Thomas started then stopped, startled by the way his voice echoed. He glanced over at us suspiciously and Molly snickered. “Fucking wizards. It is with some annoyance but mostly extreme pleasure that I present to you, for the first time ever, Mr. And Mrs. Dresden.”

If I hadn’t known it, I wouldn’t have recognized our backyard. There were fairy lights (the man-made kind, not the kind enslaving actual fae) strung between the house and the fence until it formed a ceiling of sparkling light. A few tables were arranged under them, complete with tablecloths in blue and white and an entire section of the yard had been laid with tiles to create a dance floor. I couldn't say whether it was the adrenaline rush from not being ambushed by an irate Queen of Winter or if it’s just a normal side effect of getting married, but everything felt brighter. Every joke was funnier. Every smile was broader. I felt lighter and younger than I had in years.

There were some hiccups. For instance, Ebenezer actually showed up. And he was less than enthused, particularly when the news got around to him that we were not only married but expecting. “Harry.” He said, with more disappointment than I had previously thought was possible. The fact that he used my actual name didn't bode well. “When someone gives you a choice between the easy road and the hard road, why do you always have to find an even harder damn road to go down?”

“I like to make my own way. Don’t really care for anyone telling me where I should go and how I should get there.”

“That should make for an interesting marriage.” He smiled despite himself. “If you’re happy, I’ll be happy for you…while it lasts. And when the price comes due for all this happiness you’re making for yourself, and mark me, boy, it will, heavens help me but, you know how to reach me.”

“I do. And I know. We both know what we've gotten ourselves into.”

He watched me a minute, sizing me up and shook his head. “I don't know if knowing how buggered you are and going through with this anyway makes it better or worse, Hoss.” He clapped my shoulder and repeated, “You know how to reach me.”

Fortunately, he didn't stay long. It's not that I didn't want to see the old man, but Margaret was still very adamant that he couldn't know she was alive. She had actually lectured me for telling him about my relationship with Molly and called me an idiot for even considering telling him about the pregnancy. “He'll go straight to the Council. And how do you think they'll respond? If they don't come snatch you themselves to 'save you from her clutches’ they'll tell the Queen to get on her good side. Or they'll use it as leverage. It's how they operate, Harry.” No amount of persuasion would convince her that she'd either not known her father very well to begin with, or that he'd changed a lot in the nearly fifty years since they'd last talked. But, Margaret LaFey hadn't earned her name for nothing. She hid herself masterfully in the small crowd, without even using her magic, always staying one step ahead of him, keeping from his line of sight.

Another issue: in my head, I planned to spend most if not all of the reception in the company of my brand new wife, maybe eating dinner, a dance or two, conversation. But in practice, even when we were beside each other we might as well have been miles apart. Everyone demanded our attention. They didn't mean any harm, of course. It was all well-wishes and advice and shared stories. I turned to talk to her at one point and found she'd been whisked away to the other side of the yard somehow and there was no polite way for me to extricate myself from the conversation I was in to go join her.

Finally, I found the secret to one solitary moment of peace on my wedding day: I said I needed to take a leak. I mean, I _did_. But more importantly, it let me make my way across the yard and into the blissfully quiet stillness of my own home with only minimal interruption and no one following. I took my time and found that I was actually steeling myself to go back outside and join my friends and family. I’m just not used to being the life of the party and it was wearing on me. I took one step onto the back patio when I heard a _psst_ from off to my right. I turned to investigate and there, in the shadows at the corner of the house, was Molly.

“What are you–” I started to ask, but she put one finger to her lip and beckoned for me to follow her, disappearing around the corner. Curious, I followed and found myself immediately snagged by my lapels and pulled into a kiss that made me a little weak in the knees. “Mm. Is it just me or are married kisses better?”

“Hard to tell,” Molly answered breathlessly. “I’ve been pretty sure this has all been a dream since I woke up this morning, so everything's better.”

“If this was a dream, I don't think we'd have to hide in our own yard to steal a minute of alone time.” We peeked around the corner, watching our friends and family mingle while I wrapped my arms around her. “It's beautiful. Did you set this up?”

She shook her head. “I told the girls last night that I hadn't bothered with decorations or anything and they said they'd take care of it. I expected a few streamers or balloons maybe but this…they really outdid themselves.” She twisted in my arms to look up at me and even in the darkness, I could see her eyes sparkle. “Thank you, for insisting on the whole ceremony and reception thing. I didn't think it would matter but when dad gave me his arm and we started walking…everything else just faded away. I forgot to be anyone other than Molly Carpenter. And suddenly it all finally felt real. I think I was scared to let myself believe it until that moment but,” she sighed happily. “But we did it. We’re freakin' married!”

I laughed. “It _does_ seem too good to be true. Was it everything you wanted?”

“And then some. It was nothing like what I imagined when I was younger, but it was perfect anyway.”

I started kissing a line along her neck. “Younger you got one thing right at least.”

“Mm?” She asked, shivering as my hands trailed along her sides, the alien feel of the chiffon somehow emphasizing the perfect curve of her figure. “And what's that?”

“I don’t think I _can_ wait until after the reception to tear this dress off you and ravish your eager body,” I whispered, my lips close enough to brush her ear as I spoke. She drew her bottom lip between her teeth, then took my hand and took off running in the opposite direction of the party. “Where are you going? Someone's going to notice we’re missing.”

“You're right.” Molly agreed, not even pausing when she hit the edge of the front yard. “But we've got a few minutes and when they start looking, they'll look in our house first.”

“Uh. Right. And when they can't find us they'll worry something happened.”

“I guess you better stop talking and hurry up before they notice, then.”

We'd made it into the Carpenters' backyard and Molly was already halfway up the ladder to the treehouse, managing it with much more grace than I would have expected the dress to allow. I poked my head up through the trapdoor after her, expecting to tell her, as gently as possible, that I was not going to sneak away from my own wedding reception to have cramped, possibly splinter-inducing impulse sex in her parents’ backyard. The words died on my lips.

The floor had been covered in pillows and blankets, like something out of a low-budget harem scene. The room was filled with the soft glow of candlelight, courtesy of the lanterns suspended from each corner. Molly was already reclined against one wall, watching me with an indolent smile. It made me think of lionesses lounging in the tall grass, perfectly relaxed but ready to strike if the opportunity presented itself. “What is all this?” I asked, trying not to let her see what an eager antelope I really was.

“You said you couldn't wait.” She purred. “So why is my dress still on?” Her grin matched my own and I scrambled in and closed the door as well as I could while hunched and wearing a suit. “Wait!” My hands were poised a fraction of a fraction of an inch from the back of her dress, while hers worked at my belt. “I know I said 'tear' but mom worked really hard on this dress so…would you settle for unbuttoning?”

A short laugh escaped me and I turned her around fully with gentle hands. “For the brand new Mrs. Dresden? I think I can restrain myself.” I carefully undid each of the roughly eight thousand buttons running the length of her dress down to her tailbone, placing kisses along her spine as each new bit of skin was bared. I found, despite my ardor, I had no problem going slow. Something about the low light, the way her steadily quickening breath was the only sound, the knowledge that the woman next to me was irrevocably mine and I was hers…we had an eternity ahead of us. I could take my time tonight, reception be damned. “There.” I murmured against the small of her back, kissing my way back up. “No tearing.”

“And what about the ravishing?” She asked, sliding the dress off her shoulders until she was naked from the waist up.

“Mm. I don’t know.” My mouth was on her neck and she whimpered. “How eager is your body?”

“Why don’t you come find out?”

I did as my wife asked and quickly found the answer to my question: a resounding 'very'.

Afterward, we were lying side by side, hands intertwined while we slowly caught our breath. I was still wearing my tie, though it was badly askew and my shirt was almost entirely unbuttoned. In fact, it was missing a few buttons now that I was looking at it. Ah well. Nothing a needle and thread couldn’t fix. Molly was cradled in a pool of bunched up chiffon and crinoline, her free hand flung across her stomach. She was the portrait of bliss, looking more at peace than I'd seen her in months, lips curled in a satisfied smile. “We should probably get back.” She rolled her head to look at me and didn't seem to have any inclination to do as she said.

“Or at least get dressed.” I agreed. We didn't move.

“Leech is running interference. If anyone asks, she'll say I needed a quick break, because of the baby. And you, of course, had to stay with me.” The soft laugh that escaped her lips was one of the most beautiful sounds I'd ever heard. “It isn't a total lie, I guess. I was starting to get overwhelmed, all the well-wishes and advice and I swear if one more person touched me…sorry, I know it's shitty to even think that, I'm sure it's all these hormones and–”

“Stars no. Are you kidding? I considered hiding in the bathroom all night. And with how sensitive you are…no, we needed a break. Don’t sweat it.”

She hummed in agreement. “The rings are beautiful. Your doing?”

“Thomas insisted.” We hadn't planned on exchanging rings – they were an obvious symbol of marriage and even if we only wore them in private it was still an unnecessary risk. But try telling that to my brother who had cuffed the back of my head so hard my teeth rattled when I said he could cut the ring part from the ceremony. ‘Symbols are just as important as words, Harry.’ 'You owe her a goddamn ring after everything you've put her through.’ 'I don't care what she said, she wants a ring. She can take it off after if she wants, but you’re putting a ring on her finger, baby brother, or I'm walking.’ And so on. “It’s not anything special really, I just tweaked my old kinetic rings a little bit, polished them up. I know you don't need it, but it should still work the same way, just in case. And if anyone catches you wearing it, you can claim it's just part of your defense strategy.”

“Of course it's special.” She scoffed. “It's my wedding ring. To you. You big goof.” She sighed and patted my bare thigh. “Okay. We have to go back.”

“You’re right. I don’t want to be rude.”

“Fuck rude. We have to go back because I haven’t had anything to eat since breakfast and if I don’t get cake in my face in the next five minutes I might die.”

“Seems a little exaggerated. Given you’re immortal and all.”

“I might. You don’t know.”

I kissed her soundly. “Alright Mrs. Dresden, let’s get you cake.”

“So help me, Harry, if you shove that in my face, this will be the worst wedding night of your entire life,” Molly told me fifteen minutes later after we’d returned and cut the cake together. I held the slice poised, ready to go, and I couldn’t hide my grin.

“You said you wanted cake, darling.” I reminded her. “I believe you even used the words 'in my face’.”

“That is not what I meant and you know it.”

“On the count of three. One. Two.” She smashed the cake in my face like I knew she would, but I caught her by the waist and before she could escape, kissed her soundly, ensuring that as much of my icing-coated face as possible connected with hers. A cheer went up throughout the yard and Molly was laughing too hard under my lips for it to be too much of a kiss, but it was beautiful all the same.

Then there was dancing and drinking and general revelry. My wife stubbornly insisted that we had to have a first dance and I laughed when my protests that I _couldn't_ dance were drowned out by the opening beat to _Sway_ , the original this time. So we had a reprisal of our dance in the living room from her birthday so many months ago, and it only took a few seconds for me to forget about the crowd entirely, lost in that magic as old as mankind itself that had nothing to do with wizards or mantles, and everything to do with just us, just a man and his wife, sharing each other's company. If we'd been well-matched before, it was nothing to how we moved now, like we were one being. And when we reached the end and I dipped her, bowed low over her body, I kissed her for all I was worth. There were more cheers and a few whistles as well.

As the night wore on our party slowly dwindled until we bid farewell to our last guests (mom and Thomas, who to my surprise left together) and were finally alone. Maggie had fallen asleep under one of the tables, curled up against a drowsy Mouse, and I carried her in to bed while Molly waited (per my request) outside. Once the kiddo was tucked in, I went back out and scooped up my wife in both arms. She giggled, knowing me well enough to understand. “The house is in my name. Do you really need to carry me over the threshold?”

“It's a tradition.” I pointed out, walking around the side of the house and up the front steps. The backdoor had a threshold as well of course, but it only felt right to carry her through the front door. She rolled her eyes at the whole thing, but as usual, she indulged me. Neither of us expected it to be anything more than a silly thing, done so we could say we did it and nothing more, but when I stepped across the threshold of our home and into our hallway, we both felt it.

Molly looked up at me, awed. “Wow.”

I eyed the door as I closed it behind us. “Mm. Is it me or did getting married somehow make that forty times stronger?”

“Makes sense.” She said with a shrug. “Not only are the bonds between us stronger now but we also just had a wealth of people all proclaiming their love and support for our union in our backyard, part of our property. The threshold was bound to be stronger.”

“I knew I married you for a reason.” I kissed her gently, happiness and love burning in my chest like strong whiskey, warm and perfect. She giggled again when I started up the stairs with her still in my arms, but letting go of her sounded like the worst idea I’d ever heard. I sat her on the edge of the bed and carefully undid the buttons along the back of her dress again. There weren't as many as I originally thought, now that my libido wasn’t urgently demanding that I strip her as quickly as possible to get to the good part, but there were still a lot. She made an appreciative noise as I helped her out of the dress, and I hung it up on the bathroom door. I wasn’t sure what you did with a wedding gown once you were married, but it seemed wrong to leave it in a puddle on the floor. 

There was a quiet beauty to the evening. We didn't do anything we hadn't done a million times before; helping each other undress and going through our nightly routine before climbing into bed beside each other. But it all felt different, better. It wasn't just the millionth time I fell asleep with Molly curled up on my chest. It was the first time my wife fell asleep listening to my heartbeat. And the next morning was the first day I woke up a husband, smothered in kisses from a woman who was just as excited as I was to find that the prior day was not a dream, evident by the rings on our fingers, the dress on the door and the perfect contentment, the sense that no matter what, the world wasn’t an entirely awful place and we had our own shared place in it.

“So good of you to drop by,” Sarissa said with a pristine smile as she ushered us through the office door. I didn't know she had access to an actual practice, but Molly had. The moment we were both through she slammed the door shut behind us. “Since you’ve had me worried sick for two weeks, trying to figure out what the hell we’re going to do when all I've got to work with is a few cryptic texts and you won’t answer my calls!”

“Sorry,” Molly told her, cringing a little as she was lead to an examination table. “We’ve been busy with another matter. But we’re here to get your thoughts now and–”

“Oh good. I’m happy you could fit me into your busy schedule. No!” She snapped at me when I started to follow. I'd never heard Sarissa snap in all the months we'd spent together during my recovery, no matter how much I whined or how deadly the situation we were in. I guess maybe something had her on edge. Ahem. “No. You stay right there. Not a step further. Do you know how expensive this equipment is?” I guess she had a point. I stood still, feeling awkward as she drew a circle on the floor around me. “There. Stay.” I bristled at the command, but since the Summer Lady seemed more unhinged about Molly's condition than either of us (and, believe me, that was saying something) I let it pass.

I did my best to stay still and silent. Molly hadn't asked me to, but despite the unusual circumstances, this _was_ still a meeting between the Winter and Summer Ladies, or whatever Molly was now. The two women seemed oddly comfortable around each other, but you could never tell with the fae. Either way, I wasn’t eager to say the wrong thing and upset the diplomatic relations between them. Also, it's possible that my stomach was doing nervous flip flops about being in a doctor's office with my _wife_ while she was examined by the daughter of our _Queen_ , for a _pregnancy_ check-up. Combined with my heart pounding thickly in my throat, I didn’t talk much, just listened to them discuss the situation with increasing anxiety.

Molly went over what we knew, including how we suspected it happened, which earned us yet another lecture on the birds and the bees. I wanted to ask her if she and Fix always used protection, for all her haughty superiority, but she seemed pissed off enough that Molly hadn’t mentioned the effect of the piercings before, so I bit back my comments.

“Alright, so you’re keeping it?” Sarissa asked when she'd calmed down some. “You’re sure?”

“Yes,” Molly answered immediately and emphatically. “We are. I think…well, I think it might be okay as long as our other plans go well. But I’d like your thoughts on the matter.”

Sarissa glanced at me then back to Molly. “How much does he know?”

“Everything.” My wife smiled at me and I couldn't help but return it. “No more secrets between us.”

The Summer Lady snorted. “Yeah, those pregnancy hormones have definitely kicked in, huh?”

Molly shrugged. “That and the fact that he’s my husband now.”

“Molls,” I hissed, confident that if my heart hammered any harder it would give out completely. “Did she really need to know that?”

“Your what?!” Sarissa asked, looking at the rings on both of our hands. She groaned. “Why? Why would she ever have picked either of you, let alone both of you? You're both insane and together, you’re like gunpowder and fire, you _do_ realize that, right?”

“Relax,” Molly told us both, as if we were the unreasonable ones. “The marriage isn’t nearly as big of a deal as the baby. And, hey, might as well go for broke, right?”

Sarissa raked her hands through her hair in frustration. “I don't think _any_ of the Queens can marry. It's never been done. Were you wearing the bane then too?”

“No, but we waited til the summer solstice,” Molly suggested. “Maybe that helped?”

“Maybe.” She sounded at her wit's end, maybe beyond that, and I started to worry that maybe we'd broken her. “I'll…can you get me a copy of whatever vows you exchanged? I won’t show anyone else but I want to analyze them, see if I can figure out how you keep managing to break the rules. Oh, empty night. If he's your husband, does that make him a King? A true King, not like Kringle and the Erlking.” My heart stopped. So did my breathing. I hadn't even considered the ramifications in that way.

“I don't know,” Molly said slowly. Both women turned to look at me with curious eyes like I was a lab rat stuck in a cage for experiments. “I don't think so. Are you feeling any more powerful now that we're hitched?”

“Feeling pretty damn powerless right now,” I grumbled. “But no. I don't feel any different, magically speaking.”

“Maybe just a prince consort then,” Sarissa said, relieved. “Okay, so what's your game plan?”

“Well, same plan as before just…on an accelerated timeline,” Molly told her. “My mantle is growing more powerful and at first I thought it was from our side project, but now...I think it's just changing shape, the power becoming that of a high Queen. The balance doesn't seem to be too screwed up just yet. Maybe it can hold out until, say, October?”

Sarissa took a deep breath and exhaled hard. “And if the power was returned to you in October from another mother aspect, you could in turn grant just a Lady’s worth of power to someone new. Here’s a question. With you growing stronger, is She growing weaker?”

“I don’t think so. We’d have seen evidence by now, wouldn’t we?”

“You mean like Outsider attacks left and right?” I suggested.

She shook her head. “Those have been getting worse since long before our Blip came into the picture. Unless one of the big boys gets through, I think we have to assume she’s still at full capacity.” I smiled despite the seriousness of the situation. The first time she’d referred to our son as ‘the Blip’ out loud I had given her a look and she'd blushed. She admitted that's what she'd been calling him in her head since she'd first seen him, just a tiny little blip on the screen that had changed the entire course of our lives, and maybe the world itself, but she said it fondly and it stuck.

“Then we’ve got a problem,” Sarissa said flatly, not as amused by the nickname. “Because I can handle the plans for changes in management, in your Court and mine. But balance must be kept. Even if I managed to break laws of nature like you, I’d still stand by that.”

Molly's eyes went flinty, her arms automatically curling protectively around her stomach and every word she spoke was pure Winter. “And what do you intend to do to enforce that?”

Sarissa blinked, taken aback. “Oh. No, I didn’t mean anything like that. I told you before, we’ve all seen what happens to people who get between Harry and his children.” _Damn straigh_ t, I thought. I wasn’t proud of the world I’d left in the wake of my destruction of the Red Court, but I was proud of the (accurate) reputation it had given me. “Not a chance in hell am I even going to suggest termination if you two have decided to keep it. It’s the easiest solution but…you know what, let me worry about it. It sounds like I just need to find a way to amp up my power, right? If we’re on par, no global catastrophes.”

We agreed to keep doing research and looking for solutions on our end as well, while Sarissa continued her exam (more, erm, _thoroughly_ than Molly was expecting, I think.) Evidently satisfied with what she had found so far, she smiled at us both. “Alright, now here’s the fun part.”

Look, I'm not a complete and total moron. I don't live under a rock. I've seen ultrasound photos before and I’d already read a few of Charity's books on pregnancy and baby stuff. I knew intellectually what to expect. And when Sarissa slathered Molly in gel, of course I got a little excited. We'd get to see him together. Or as together as we could be with me standing several feet away in a chalk circle. There were sounds as Sarissa prodded around with the wand and Molly made a face which suggested it wasn't a comfortable process. Then Sarissa said, “There we go.” And turned the screen to face us.

It felt like the world around me crumbled to pieces and rebuilt itself in an instant.

I could see him, clear as day. His head, his limbs, his tiny little fingers curled into a fist, each itty-bitty toe. He was real. Not that I’d doubted Molly or anything, but there he was. Until that moment, I'd been aware of him. I’d thought about him. I’d already loved him. But this was different. This wasn't just an idea, a concept, a fact on paper. He was real, a real tiny human, part Molly and part me, right before my eyes. And I knew I would do anything for that child. I felt it in my soul. My life had changed forever when Susan told me about Maggie. I hadn’t expected my second (flesh and blood) child to have such a profound impact. I was already a dad, I already knew the lengths I’d go to for my family.

But there he was, our son, our baby. A life we created, still growing, still forming. I felt powerful and humbled all at once, absolutely thrilled and absolutely terrified. He seemed miraculous, too good to be true, and it had nothing to do with the fact that he should have been impossible.

I was distantly aware of the fact that Molly was talking with Sarissa, but I was too distracted to pay much attention until she asked, “You okay, Harry?”

I nodded, not taking my eyes off of the screen for even a second. “Is he…” My voice cracked, too choked on emotion and I had to swallow before I could continue. “Is he healthy and everything?”

The thirty microseconds between when I asked and when Sarissa answered were some of the most fearful of my entire life. My mind, running in overdrive, worried about all the things that could go wrong with a normal baby and then added in having a mother with the body temperature of a corpse, a ton of magic forces influencing him, and the number of times Molly had been in fights since he was conceived, some of them with me. “He is,” She confirmed. “That thick noise you're hearing? That's his heartbeat. I'll need to run some tests as long as you and Molly are okay with it to rule out some issues that won’t show up on an ultrasound, but from everything I can see here he's in good shape.”

“Is he definitely a he, then?” I asked. I wanted to look at her. It was the polite thing to do. But I kept watching my son, listening to the flutter of his heart, unable to pull my eyes away.

“It's a little hard to tell for sure this early on from just the ultrasound. I think so. And his energy pattern is leaning toward masculine, wouldn't you say Molly?”

“Uhhh.” Molly sounded like it hadn’t occurred to her, which makes sense because I have no idea how you feel a masculine or feminine energy pattern. Then again, I’m not nearly as sensitive as Molly is when it comes to energy. My heart stopped again when I saw him move, evidently excited by either his mother’s magic or by her hand pressed gently against her abdomen, feeling for him. “Yeah. Yeah, it is. Explains why all my dreams have been about boys.”

“He's beautiful,” I said, barely a whisper. They didn't make words strong enough for what I wanted to say. “Molls. He's perfect. He…look at him.”

He uncurled one of those mini fists, teeny-tiny fingers on display at the end of itty-bitty hands. Molly’s voice was soft, hushed, and I understood. “Whatever happens, whatever we have to do, he's worth it.”

“Then I guess we had better get our ducks in a row and get down to business.” Sarissa declared, taking off her gloves. When the screen turned off Molly echoed my thoughts with a small noise of protest and Sarissa eyed us both with an indulgent smile. “Don't worry, I took a few stills for your records. I'll grab them off the printer and make copies for you. Give me a minute.”

I didn't care about her equipment. I didn't care about our surroundings. I didn't care about anything other than the amazing woman in front of me and the perfect little life inside of her. I can't even pretend that my eyes were watering from anything other than the happiest of tears as I threw my arms around Molly, holding her tight against me. “Thank you.” It wasn’t enough but it was all I had. She laughed, one hand rubbing lightly up and down my back.

“You had just as much to do with making him as I did, Harry. In fact, it was your idea. I should be thanking you.”

“But he's real,” I mumbled, my face buried in her hair. I kissed the side of her head, because it's what I could reach without moving, and breathed in the comforting, familiar scent of her. “Not that I didn't believe you but knowing it and seeing it are two different things.”

“I know.” She heaved a happy sigh. “And you’re right, he's perfect.”


	10. Chapter 10

That summer was one of the best and worst of my life. Married life was, well, it wasn’t much different from unmarried life for us, but it was still wonderful. Summer meant no school for Maggie, so we got to spend plenty of time together. Her lessons were going well, even if she still wasn’t showing any evidence of magical talent. She'd be ready if she ever did. There were also plenty of water balloon fights, trips to the park, swimming in the lake, and on the days when it was just too hot to even think about going outside (which there were a lot of that summer), there were pillow forts and board games and shadow puppets. I really lucked out with that kid, no doubt about it.

It was exciting, finally having a family, a real family of my own. And it was even more exciting knowing our family was growing. Despite Molly's insistence that our Blip was not a case to be studied and solved, I did my research. Charity had given us the books, after all, I had no choice but to read them. Of course, some of them were as old as Molly, so it was only prudent to go out and buy a few of the newer ones. The more I read, the more excited I grew, but also the more worried.

Molly’s morning sickness went away (which was good) and her energy returned (also good.) Her body ached in new and unusual ways (not good, but to be expected) and her appetite grew to that of the average high school football team – the whole team. But she wasn't gaining weight. Sarissa kept assuring us that our Blip was growing normally, he was perfectly healthy, Molly was perfectly healthy. But unless you were really looking, you never would have known she was pregnant. By the end of August, she was just getting to a point where she'd stopped wearing skin-tight clothes for Winter business and even then she didn't look half as far along as she was. We were operating under the assumption that it was a mantle thing – the Lady was supposed to look a certain way, so she looked a certain way. Her mantle was growing, changing with her, but she could only grow as much and as quickly as it did.

Which isn't to say her power hadn't grown. If she'd been terrifying in the early days of her pregnancy, it was nothing to her current state. She commanded avalanches, blizzards, storms. She didn't fight our enemies anymore. When we were on missions, I fought, she just killed. She waved a hand and horrific things happened. She blinked and she was halfway across the battlefield. It was a struggle even in our day to day life to keep her power contained. More than once I'd come downstairs to find it casually snowing in our living room, not because she was upset, just because she was there. And she only noticed when I pointed it out. Eventually, we resorted to the same sort of mindfulness exercises we'd had to do during her apprenticeship to help her get it under control. I'd taken to wearing one of her studs in my ear (careful to take it out before we engaged in any kind of carnal activity – I wasn’t sure if her mantle would strike now that it was too late to defend itself but I wasn’t eager to find out) just to help control the Knight since her ambient energy was enough to call Winter to the surface at all times.

Which made me wonder, what would life be like for us if she was Queen? That was the plan so far. After hours and hours and endless meetings and debates and research, the best plan we’d come up with was still 'fairy coup'. We were back to waiting for Halloween because it was easier than trying to find a way to summon the Stone Table. And the plan thus far was to weaken and kill our Queens, let Molly and Sarissa take the mantles and then…? Sarissa had a backup vessel lined up for her Lady, someone in her Court that was a willing sacrifice. Molly refused to even consider finding the same. Sarissa had a theory that once they held the power they’d be able to change it, but it was just a guess. What we did know was that, at the very least, Mab and Titania needed to go. The old ways needed to go. And Fix and I were the chumps for the job. Ultimately, whatever happened after that was going to happen either way.

And that was the reality we were all facing by summer’s end: we could plan all we wanted, but we were only giving ourselves the illusion of control. Our son had changed everything, and our path was laid out for us. Sure, it was dark and bumpy and riddled with pitfalls and we had no idea what was even a few feet ahead of us and we would probably die, but none of that changed the fact that it was the only path. Molly would be the Winter Queen or we’d both die trying to make it happen because it was the only thing we could do. Sometimes that knowledge kept me up at nights, sweating and stressing and trying not to wake Molly up with my ragged, frantic breathing. And sometimes I held her and whispered quiet reassurances while she sobbed and panicked herself. Mostly it just made me more determined to appreciate what I had while I had it and to make the most of the time I had left with my girls.

“Daaaaad,” Maggie called down the stairs. Since she'd started middle school she'd suddenly become too old to call me 'daddy.’ Now I was just ‘dad.’ My heart stuttered every time she said it and I kept hearing Michael telling me that the hardest part of parenting is that they grow up too fast and you don’t notice it until it's already happened. At the time I’d remembered thinking it would be different for me, that I’d be around more than Michael had been when Molly was a kid and so I’d see it, I’d have time with her. I was an idiot. “Mom says we're leaving without you if you don't hurry up. And she told me to remind you that she can't lie.”

“You can remind her that I have the keys and she doesn't know how to get there without me,” I grumbled, shuffling up from the lab with a bag slung over each shoulder and a box in my arms.

“She's a fairy queen. I don't think she needs your keys.” My daughter argued. “And if you're not with us we can just use Google Maps to get there. We don't break phones like _some_ people.”

“Hey, you were _my_ kid first, you’re supposed to have my back on this stuff.” I teased.

“You keep saying family’s about more than blood.” She replied with a smug smile. “And I got to know mom, like, _years_ before I got to know you, so if anyone has dibs it's her.” She hadn't meant it to be a low blow, I'm sure, so I didn't let her see that it was.

“Et tu, munchkin?” I stuck my tongue out at her and she returned the gesture. “Man, I can't wait for your brother to get here. Then I'll have another guy on my side when you girls gang up on me.” I locked the door behind us as we headed out to the car.

“I dunno. Mouse is a boy and he's always on our side. Aren’t you?” Mouse made a short rumble of agreement and she scratched him behind the ears.

“Alright. Just for that, I’m leaving you both here. I'll go camping by myself.” There wasn't much room left in the trunk, but I managed to stuff the bags and box in there anyway.

“You do that. Squirt and I'll go to a fancy hotel where there's running water and room service and big fluffy beds to sleep in.” Molly suggested from the passenger seat as I started the car.

“And I quote, 'I've never been camping. Harry, we should go camping for my birthday. Wouldn't that be fun?’. ‘But Molls, you're almost seven months pregnant. Are you sure you want to sleep on the ground in the middle of nowhere?’ 'Oh, you're so ridiculous. I'll be fine. Let's do it.’”

“I don't sound like that.” She complained, lips twitching to keep from smiling. “And it _does_ sound like fun. If you ever actually get us there.”

“Sorry for the grave inconvenience of delaying our departure by making sure we had everything we needed to be safe and comfortable.” I sarcastically replied, pulling out onto the street and heading for the on-ramp to I55 S. “Next time I'll just leave the temporary ward posts and the sleeping bags at home.”

The trip down to Ebenezer’s farm is normally about five hours. When I’m the only one in the car, I can make it in about four with a dangerous disregard for the lives of myself and everyone else on the road. Our last trip had taken closer to six hours. This one felt like it took about ten with how many times we had to stop for bathroom breaks. Somewhere around the five thousandth time Molly asked me to pull into the next rest stop my impatience must have started showing because she stared at me with a flat look until I looked away. When she came back to the car, she leaned in the driver's side window and with a kiss on my cheek said, “If you'd been more careful the last time we made this trip, I wouldn't have your son doing tap dances on my bladder right now, so you have no one to be grumpy with but yourself.”

Slowly but surely we made it. Ebenezer wasn’t home, which we'd known before we got there. We hadn't come to visit, just to take advantage of probably the safest expanse of forest on this continent. When Molly had first suggested camping, I told her we could do it in the backyard, where our wards should be more than enough to keep out foot soldiers if not Mab herself. And since our day to day life was now focused on keeping one eye out for Mab at all times, and we hadn’t received a new mission from her in a few weeks, I was nervous about going anywhere with less protection. But Molly and Maggie both wanted a 'real’ camping trip, and there was only one place I knew of where the outdoors were likely to be just as fairy-proofed as our house. Ebb and I had discussed in great detail the spells and protections he had on his property and how we could augment and improve on them to make sure we were as safe as possible. He also suggested that I might want to invite Molly in at the edge of the property because, well, the spells wouldn't help us much if they let extremely powerful sidhe in, would they? They hadn't bothered her on our first visit but with her power grown, we did it just to be safe.

I was willing to just load up the horses with our stuff and walk to the glade since there was no way in hell I was allowing Molly on a horse in her condition, but she insisted Maggie and I ride. When I asked how she was going to get there, she disappeared and reappeared on the far horizon. So, the kid and I saddled up and rode out while my wife, I don't know what to call it, flitted I guess, alongside us. Maggie was suitably awestruck by the beauty of the glade, immediately setting off to explore it. I dismounted and found Molly's arms around my waist from behind. “I'm trying to decide if it's more beautiful in the fall or spring.”

The leaves were starting to turn, shocks of red, yellow and orange mixed throughout the green. I turned to look at her. “I think it's probably the most beautiful place in the world, year-round.”

“You sure that's not childhood nostalgia talking?” She teased. Her bright blue eyes shone with joy.

I placed my hands on either side of her belly, finally distended to the point where even in her t-shirt you could notice her bump, and felt our son kick against one palm. “Yeah, Molls. I'm pretty sure there's more to it than childhood nostalgia.”

We shared a kiss, slow and deep, both of us a little breathless by the time we pulled away. “You’re right. I don't think I've ever seen a more beautiful spot. It's got its own kind of magic to it, doesn’t it?”

I nodded. It always had, the kind of green living energy that can only come from old things, ancient trees and stones that remember days before mankind, used to the quiet peace and solitude of the wilderness. Of course, after our trip in the spring, it felt more magical than usual to me. “I almost proposed to you,” I confessed. “That was the whole plan. Trail ride. Picnic. Some quality human time and while you still had the iron in you, I'd drop down to one knee and…” I shrugged. “But I chickened out.”

“I would have said no,” Molly told me gently with a frown.

“I know. That's why I chickened out.” She laughed. “Funny how quickly life can change, isn't it?”

Her frown returned. “I'm not sure funny is always the best word for it.”

“We’re going to be fine. All of us.” I assured her. I'd said it so much over the last few months it was starting to turn into a catchphrase. I meant it every time. I didn’t know how we’d be fine. I didn’t know how we’d survive, but I knew if there was a way we’d do it. I'm not an optimist by nature, and since the universe has always had a habit of kicking me when I'm down and then pouring salt in the wounds, it's not something I've learned to be either. But I couldn't let myself believe our cause was hopeless, not when I finally had everything I’d ever wanted right in my grasp.

“Saying it doesn't make it true. Harry, what if–”

“Hey guys, can we go swimming?” Maggie called, feet already dangling into the water. It had been on the chilly side when we left Chicago but it was shaping up to be a warm day in Missouri.

“As long as you’re careful. It’s really deep in the middle.” I yelled back. Molly and I watched her splash her way into the creek fully dressed, and Mouse slumped in after her. With his fur slicked down and just his giant head above the water, you could have mistaken him for a normal, dog-sized dog. I took Molly’s hand in my own, rubbing her knuckles. “Its been a crazy year and I think before this month is over we'll see some of the craziest days yet. But for today, let’s ignore the outside world and just have a family vacation. A man, his wife, his kid, and his dog, camping out under the stars. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

Her lips curled up. “ _Our_ kid. _Her_ dog. Misogynist.” It was said fondly and I was reminded yet again that I had found the perfect woman for me. “Alright, dork. Let's pretend we’re normal for a day.”

“Whoa, I never said normal. My imagination isn't _that_ good.”

The weather was perfect, warm but not too humid, sunny skies overhead. Once I’d put our temporary wards in place (they wouldn’t last very long but since we only needed to be hidden from the world for a weekend it didn’t matter) and Molly had added her own touches, Maggie and I went on an adventure in the woods. I’m not an expert woodsman by any stretch of the imagination, but I showed her what I’d learned, a few tricks for tracking game and survival tips that she'd probably never need. Then again, she was my kid. Either way, she was very excited to scramble over boulders and splash through creeks and when I pointed out the tree on the edge of the glade that was perfect for climbing her eyes grew as wide as dinner plates. “She's going to fall and break something,” Molly observed beside me while Maggie made her way up.

“Falling and breaking things is good for you. It builds character. ‘Sides, she's fine. Look at her go.”

“I'm not climbing up there to get her if she gets stuck.”

“She’ll come down eventually, one way or another.” I grinned when she elbowed me in the ribs. “I'll grab her if she needs help, but I think she'll be fine.”

She _was_ fine, though I thought I was going to need to physically drag her out of it to get her to come down. It gave Molly and I time to sit and enjoy each other's company. She was not willing to get in the water (despite my reminder that it was not going to be nearly as cold now as it was in March and that, without the piercings, she wouldn't feel the cold anyway) but she was happy to watch me enjoy it while she dipped her toes in.

When it started getting closer to dinner time, I foraged for firewood and showed my two city girls how to build first a fire pit then a fire. “Isn’t there an easier way we could do this?” Maggie asked, trying to use the fire striker I’d given her to light the tinder.

“Sorry kiddo, I don’t carry a lighter. This is what we have.”

“No, I mean isn’t there an easier way _you_ could do this?” She puffed, trying unsuccessfully to blow an errant strand of hair from her face. “You know. _Fuego.”_ She made a gesture with her hands toward the pile of logs, sticks and wood shavings.

“Bah. This is camping. It’s about roughing it, survival, man against nature. Magic is cheating.” I nudged her. “Besides, you never know when you’ll get lost in the woods with no wizard around to start your fire for you. You should learn to fend for yourself.”

“Bonnie says there’s almost zero chance that I won’t be a witch.” Maggie protested.

“Almost zero and zero are not the same thing, Squirt,” Molly told her gently. “And more importantly, even if you are a witch, you should only use magic for things you can’t do without it, or things that are really important. Part of being a responsible practitioner is knowing how to use your power wisely.” I could hear myself in her words, lessons that I fought hard to impart to a teenage girl who wanted nothing more than to use her magic as much as possible, now passed on to the next generation. I was almost as proud of her as a former-mentor as I was as a co-parent.

“Plus, if you get too reliant on it, then you're screwed when something happens to block your magic,” I added. “A strong rain can be enough to trip you up. If you really want to impress, teach yourself to be good at stuff on your own, and use your magic to supplement your skill.”

Proving beyond a doubt that she was my spawn, she grumbled but set in with twice the intensity and eventually there was smoke. If Molly had pointed a finger in the direction of the tinder a second beforehand while Maggie wasn’t looking, I didn’t notice. While we waited for the fire to build I whittled down a few green branches to points so that we could cook our hot dogs. I'd originally planned to catch dinner, like Ebb and I used to do when we'd go camping, and make campfire stew but for some reason, Molly wasn’t keen on the idea of eating “Bambi” or “Thumper”, and/or anything that was cooked in cast iron. So, hot dogs it was.

The sun had set, the only light coming from our fire and the barely-past-full moon overhead while we ate. Molly and I had a spirited debate over dessert about proper marshmallow-toasting techniques for s'mores. She believed that the best method was to find a spot near to the base of the fire and hold your marshmallows a quarter of an inch away from it, rotating your stick slowly. I argued for the correct method – stick it in the heart of the flame until the entire thing catches fire, blow it out, then apply it directly to the chocolate and graham crackers. “That's not toasting, that's burning it.”

I shrugged, talking around a mouthful of goopy sweetness. “Tastes good to me, and I don't have to wait.”

“Okay, both of you give me one of your marshmallows and I'll be the judge,” Maggie said, cutting off further argument. We both toasted another one and gave them to our daughter who chewed thoughtfully. I think maybe we were too competitive because Molly and both waited expectantly for her verdict. When she finished she nodded once to herself and said, “Dad’s right. Burnt is better.”

“That’s just because pyromania runs in your bloodstream.” Molly protested.

“No, he’s right. You get this like, chewy crunch on the outside with the soft ooey-gooey inside and it tastes more like smoke. It’s perfect!”

“And it’s way faster.” I pointed out.

“That too.” Maggie agreed, burning her own marshmallows.

“Heathens.” Molly shook her head.

I'd brought a tent in case the weather turned but it was clear skies without a cloud in sight, so we just snuggled into our sleeping bags in the open air. With the fire out (it wasn't cold enough to need it for warmth and I didn't want to risk setting the woods on fire while we slept) the stars seemed to shine even brighter. With my girls on either side of me (Maggie in her sleeping bag, Molly and I squished into a single one that was allegedly for two people) we watched the lights sparkling across the sky. I pointed out the big and little dippers, Cassiopeia and Cepheus, Andromeda and Cetus, the Summer Triangle with Cygnus, Lyra and Aquila and Ophiuchus and Hercules. Molly told us the stories behind each constellation as I traced the stars for them until Maggie fell asleep.

“This was a good idea,” I whispered, kissing Molly's forehead. She nodded, which had the welcome side effect of nuzzling her face against me.

“We needed this. All three of us.” She sighed happily. “It's so peaceful here. Easy to forget everything.”

“Everything but what's really important.”

“Maybe we should just stay here forever. Run away and hide from the whole world. No plots and Courts and stress.”

I rumbled my concurrence. “It would be nice if we could.”

“…What if we did? Run.” I shifted to look at her. “Find somewhere off her radar and live out our days just like this. We could live off the land and tutor Maggie ourselves. Between the two of us, we know enough to make it work.”

“And what, never see our family again? Live life always looking over one shoulder, waiting for her to find us? And what about the Balance?”

“Fuck the…urgh. Fine.” She snarled at her inability to forsake the Balance. “You're right. I just wish you weren't. Our life is so perfect right now, I don’t want to lose everything.”

“I know.” I agreed, watching our daughter sleep. “But running isn't the answer. Some things are worth the risk.”

We were both quiet for a long time, listening to the water bubbling it's way down the creek, the leaves rustling in the light breeze, crickets chirping, and somewhere nearby the hoot of an owl. We were lost in thought but it was hard to worry in all that peace and quiet. I was planning trips for the future. We'd have to make sure Ebenezer was home next time because he had the best campfire stories. In his own way, I thought, he'd been a pretty good grandfather even without telling me. I knew it had galled him at the wedding that Maggie still called him Mr. McCoy. I didn't blame her, but maybe if they spent more time together she'd come around to him. Thomas too. I was in the process of planning an entire McCoy family reunion when Molly started wiggling her way out of the sleeping bag.

I expected she needed to relieve herself since it had practically become her hobby, but was surprised when she stripped off the baggy sweatpants she’d been wearing followed by her tank top and bra to stand in just a pair of very lacy panties. I glanced over at Maggie to make sure she was still asleep then eyed my wife archly. She pressed one finger to her lips with an impish smile then crooked the same finger, telling me to follow her. I obliged her, trying to make as little noise as possible as I stood, and together we headed for the creek.

The boulder that formed one side of the pool obscured the line of sight from the sleeping bags, but I still protested when Molly started stripping me as well. “You don't even know how badly I want to do this but–”

“Sure I do. I'm sensitive. I _always_ know.” She continued grinning. “I’ve got us veiled. Mouse watched us leave. If she wakes up he’ll either stop her from coming over here or he’ll bark to let us know.”

He had, on more than one occasion, barked or growled to let us know they were on the way when he thought we might be in a compromising position. We were usually careful, but he'd been right a time or two when we'd lost track of time and weren't expecting her home from school yet. “Veiled from sight _and_ sound?” I prompted, recalling our first date.

Molly gave a tinkling laugh and nodded. As she stood there with her pale blonde hair flowing around her shoulders, naked but for a minuscule amount of black lace, bathed in the moonlight, I had no trouble believing every tale I’d ever heard where a man meets a mysterious woman late at night in his travels and, despite believing in the fae and knowing they exist, goes off with her anyway to meet an untimely or unpleasant end. I had never seen Molly look more like one of the sidhe. And I’d also never seen her look so absolutely, perfectly, flawlessly beautiful.

It felt surreal, magical in a way that had nothing to do with our collective power. We took our time, savoring the feeling of wet, slick skin, the scent of autumn air and the shimmer of the moon on the water. We were lost in a world that was entirely our own, where everything was perfect, because as long as we had this, as long we had each other I could believe that everything would work out perfectly. Maggie was still sleeping soundly when we crept, grinning, exhausted and dripping wet, back to our sleeping bag. Molly slipped into her usual spot in the crook of my arm, head on my chest, and I toyed with her damp hair. “Hey, you know something?” She finally muttered sleepily. I hummed in acknowledgment. “I really love you, y'know.”

I smiled and kissed her. “I really love you too.”

I fell asleep listening to her gentle breathing, marveling at how much my life had changed in a single year, and for the first time in months, I fell into a dreamless sleep. It had been a perfect day and I had never felt luckier to be me.

I woke in darkness, suspended in midair with my wrists bound above my head. I wasn’t entirely sure if I was moving or if my head was just spinning. I _was_ entirely sure that I was entirely naked. And cold. Really goddamn cold. It seeped into every pore of my skin, causing an aching pain that ran through my very bones. I made a token effort to break my bindings, the metal of which was biting into my wrists from the chill almost as much as from supporting my body weight. As suspected, they held. Since I had no recollection of being captured or transported to this mystery location I assumed my captors knew enough to know who they were dealing with and to plan accordingly. A quick test confirmed that yes, those were thorn manacles on my wrists so magic was out of the question too. Final summation: I was fucked.

And worse, it wasn't hard to tell who was on the pitching end of that exchange.

“Mab.” I could feel my breath fogging against my face when I spoke even if I couldn't see it.

“Dresden.” Her voice was a whisper, and it came from everywhere. I wasn’t sure if I should be relieved that I was right. She was the devil I knew, but I knew her well enough that that was not especially comforting.

“I'm sensing that I've done something to displease you, your majesty.”

Laughter bubbled up around me. “And what do you suppose you have done, wizard?”

_Wizard, not Knight. That doesn’t bode well._ “Uh let's see. I have a library book that's about 3 years overdue and I keep forgetting to return it. Is that it?” There was no sound, no movement, no warning, just a sudden line of pain down my back like I’d been hit with a lash. I bit off the surprised grunt as best I could. “No? I threw a glass bottle in the trash instead of the recycling last week. How about that?” This time it was a blow to the gut, like someone had hurled a boulder at me. I snapped my fingers as best I could with my hands bound and my fingers numb. “I know. It's because I said Titania is prettier than you, right?” The last word hadn't fully left my mouth before my head rocked to the side. Experience told me the fire burning its way across my face would resolve into claw marks once the pain subsided. I laughed. “Then I'm sorry, your majesty. I don't know what, specifically, has caused your displeasure today.”

The room was unnaturally silent and my senses told me she was gone. My instincts said otherwise. Instincts won out but it didn't stop me from jumping when she spoke from just over my left shoulder. “I detest liars. You know why you are here.”

“I'm not even sure where or when 'here' is,” I said honestly. “And I've got a gift for pissing people off so–” Pain rode through my body like I'd grabbed a live wire. Or maybe the third rail of the subway. When it subsided I sagged against myself, twice as cold from the sweat on my skin. It took a few seconds to pull my thoughts together and a few more to remember how to speak. “Whatever you think I've done, you should know me well enough to know I'm not going to confess to anything.”

“Is that so?” she sounded truly amused. “It is my experience that I can usually make men confess to a great many things with a little bit of time and effort. Sometimes they even confess to things they have actually done.” Fingers trailed over the unmarred side of my face. “You could save yourself a considerable amount of pain by being forthright.”

“I'm not afraid of pain,” I growled with a bravado I didn't feel at all.

“Of course not.” She shifted, and suddenly there was a flashing red light stabbing into my eyes from the darkness. I squinted and blinked until it became bearable and the red glow resolved into a familiar shape – the ruby at the heart of my pentacle. Try though I might to control my reaction, I felt my eyes widen, my pulse quickening. “But I do not doubt that young Margaret is. Are you willing to risk her pain for your secrets?”

I should have stopped and thought about the situation, but I've never been great at thinking rationally where my kids are concerned. “What the hell have you done with my daughter? If you've touched a hair on her head I'll–” The live wire pain returned and lasted for what felt like hours. I reached a point where thoughts, even basic primal thoughts like 'ow', were impossible. My body, brain included, became nothing but a writhing mound of pain. I existed only to hurt. The whole time, my amulet flashed at me in the darkness. It was the last thing I saw before I blacked out into the merciful nothingness of unconsciousness.


	11. Chapter 11

The room was artificially bright, making everything look washed out when I finally managed to open my eyes and observe my surroundings. I was in a bed. Not the ultra-plush kind I was accustomed to while in Mab's care, but it wasn’t terribly uncomfortable either. It was a small room. Like the bed, it wasn't uncomfortably so, it was just on the small side. The walls were a very slightly-grey off-white. The floor was stone with a thin rug spread over it. Serviceable. The entire room was serviceable. I was clothed and though I still wore my thorn manacles, they weren't lashed together so they allowed full range of motion. I guess they were just thorn bracelets. All in all, it was at least an improvement over the last time I woke up.

There was a door with no handle on the far wall. A small table with a single wooden chair sat to my left. To the right was a standing sink with an old cloudy mirror over it and a shelf with a ewer of what turned out to be water and a washcloth. There was also an empty bucket in the corner, which pretty much confirmed my suspicions – I might not be suspended from the ceiling, but I was still a captive and this was my cell. As if on cue, I turned to find Mab sitting in the previously unoccupied chair, hands folded in her lap, just watching me. I tried to speak but my voice was raw and I had to clear my throat a few times before any sound would come out. “Maggie?”

“Safe. For now.” She confirmed. I nodded, not trusting myself to respond to the threat without getting throttled again. I would brave torture and pain and potentially even death to protect Maggie, but leveling threats and pissing off Mab right now would only succeed in getting me tortured and killed for no reason. It wouldn't keep anyone safe.

“And Lady Molly?” I asked, hoping my scratchy voice would hide my nervousness to even mention her in Mab's presence. I didn't know how much she knew and I didn't want to volunteer anything that might compound my present state of fuck-ed-ness. But I had to ask.

“…Molly is as well as can be expected, given the circumstances.” She spoke carefully, which set off about a dozen alarm bells in my head on its own, never mind the words. Mab was careful, of course, in all things. She never did anything that wasn’t calculated. But letting me hear that she was weighing her words? That was too much like weakness to show. As if my current conditions weren’t enough evidence, that confirmed that something was very wrong.

“The circumstances being that the Winter Knight is detained, leaving her unprotected?” I asked, knowing that wasn’t it, but a guy could hope.

“The circumstances being that she has entered into a relationship with MY Knight and subverted him for her treasonous purposes.” There was a howling wind that accompanied her words as she bit them off.

“Ah. Yes. Those circumstances.” I rubbed at the spot where my wedding band used to be. As well as could be expected given those circumstances could very well mean dead. I tried to read her, to figure out what she wasn’t telling me, but as usual, it was like reading translucent ink on an apparently blank page. “If you know, then why am I still alive?”

Mab considered me for a moment, her soulless black eyes unblinking. She was making no efforts to hide that 'otherness', her inhumanity, and I had to steel myself not to squirm beneath her gaze. “Do you wish to die?”

It sounded like honest curiosity. “Not really. Tried it once. Didn’t care for it.”

“I am given to understand that it was not entirely your decision previously. Your thoughts have not always been your own.”

“It was my decision. An ill-informed decision, maybe, but my own thoughts, my own choice.”

“Should a man be held responsible for his choices, if his mind is altered when making them?”

“As much as I'd love to have a philosophical debate with you,” I replied with no small amount of irritation. “Maybe you could just tell me what the hell you want so I can get out of here?”

“You are not in a position to give me what I want.” There was just the smallest twitch of her hand, and something dark passed behind her eyes, gone as quickly as it came. “I have not brought you here as a prisoner. I have brought you here because there are truths you are not yet ready to accept, and until you are, I would rather have you here where I can keep an eye on you.”

“Am I free to leave, despite your wishes?” She smiled in answer. “Right, then call it what you want, I'm still a prisoner.”

“I could move you to the dungeons where I keep my actual prisoners if you would prefer.”

“I might. Is that where you've got my–” I caught myself before saying 'wife’. “Molly?”

Her frozen berry lips quirked into a smirk. “ _Your_ Molly? You may want to sit back down. You have been through quite an ordeal.”

“No, what I want is to see Molly, right now, to know that you haven't hurt her or…or anyone else.”

“I have hurt many people, Dresden. You know that.”

“You know what I mean. The people with her.”

She tilted her head to the side and it was like being inspected by some kind of carrion fowl. “Yourself and Maggie? I have already told you Maggie is safe.”

“…You've seen Molly since our capture?” She nodded. “In the same clothes she wore when you captured us?” Again she nodded. “Then you know what I'm asking. The baby. Is the baby safe and unharmed?”

Mab sat still as a statue and blinked slowly at me a few times. “‘The baby’?” She repeated carefully as though it were a foreign phrase.

“Oh come on. You’re clever. You see everything. You can't have missed it, not in that tank top. The baby. _Our_ baby. Is he still okay?”

She closed her eyes as if pained and muttered something beneath her breath, shaking her head. “The mantle will stop the Lady from any activity that could get her with child. Just as your mantle renders you all but sterile.”

“It does?” She nodded her head. “That is the last time I take a job offer without reading the fine print, I swear. But that’s not the point. As a wise man once said, 'life, uh, finds a way.’’

“Dresden. Please sit down.” The Queen of Winter did not ask nicely. She did not say please. Yet here we were. I sat down on the bed opposite her. “Tell me what you believe has happened since we met in Baron Marcone’s office last February. I do not think you will say anything that I am not already aware of, but I give you my word that if you tell me anything I do not know, I will not punish you, your friends, family or accomplices for it as long as you will agree to be honest and forthright with me.”

I tried to find the loophole, but I didn't see one. I was sure I was going to regret it but I said, “Alright, I agree.” So I told her, starting with staying with Murphy to help her when she got out of the hospital, through moving in and moving out again, then on to living in between Molly and Thomas and being blindsided by my feelings for Molly. How our relationship started. Our decision to move Maggie in with us at Christmas. Both of her bouts of iron sickness and how the second time masked a different kind of ailment. “We figured you were going to be pissed off enough that I got her pregnant, no real reason not to get hitched as well. In for a penny in for a pound, right? Anyway, we knew you’d be upset and you’d do whatever you could to keep the Balance, including coming for the baby. And we knew just as well that you’d have to do that over our dead bodies. So, yeah. I guess we haven't been the most loyal subjects but, I stand by it. I won't let you hurt my son or my wife. I'll fight until my dying breath.”

It wasn’t a threat, it was a fact and I said it as such. “Your son or your wife,” Mab said after a long pause. There was an odd hitch to her voice that I couldn't place. “Molly is truly gifted. I think there must be fae blood somewhere in her lineage. Her gift for illusion is astounding. And this is…under different circumstances, I would be proud of her. It is very well done.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Does nothing about your relationship with Lady Molly strike you as odd? The suddenness with which you pursued her? The miraculous things that have happened between you? Your mother, back from the dead? The Lady, pregnant despite the fact that it should be impossible? A life you have always longed for, laid at your feet.”

“My entire life has been odd and it gets odder every day. So yeah, there's been a lot of weird, crazy, wonderful and terrifying things going on, but I'm beginning to think I wouldn't know what to do with normal if I found it.”

“I suppose that makes sense from your perspective.” Mab conceded. “I have heard it said that you are capable of doing the impossible, from your allies and your enemies alike. I have been praised for having the foresight to choose a Knight who can do the impossible. And do you know how I respond, Dresden?”

“Like you do to everything, with an equal mix of wisdom and cruelty, your majesty?” The answer seemed to please her.

“I respond that none of us can do the impossible. If it _has_ been done, it _can_ be done and is therefore possible. You have a long history of doing the extremely improbable, not the impossible. Do you understand?”

“I understand what you’re saying, but not why,” I admitted.

“The Winter Lady cannot conceive a child. She is a vessel for the maiden aspect of our power. No matter how hard you try, you cannot plant your seed in an empty pot and expect it to grow. It is impossible. Not improbable.” For the first time, Mab sounded tired as she spoke, almost world-weary. Despite being involved in a plot to overthrow and kill her before she could kill my wife and son and take my daughter for her own, it still worried me. If there’s one person you really don’t want to be world-weary it’s the defender of the Outer Gates.

I spread my hands. “I think you need to reevaluate your definition. It’s done. I did it. It took a handful of stainless steel and a whole lot of not considering the consequences of our actions, but we managed it.”

“Do you really think that in thousands of years of our Court it has never occurred to one of the Ladies to try to use the Bane to subdue the mantle?” She asked, like I was a child who’d asked a question he really should have known the answer to.

“If you have a better explanation, I’d be fascinated to hear it.”

“Very well. If Molly was pregnant, there is no amount of glamor that she could perform which would hide it from me. She is one of the finest illusionists I have ever seen but illusions are all but nonexistent to my eye. So, if I see Molly and she does not appear pregnant and then I talk to you and you say she appears very pregnant, I’m forced to assume that there _is_ illusory magic going on, and it is not for my benefit.”

“It's not an illusion.” I scoffed. “I've seen her ultrasounds. I've felt him kick.”

“Have you never had the chance to view your apprentice's work in action? I have personally witnessed a man almost drown on dry land because she convinced him he was suddenly submerged in an ocean no one else could see. She had not needed to directly affect his breathing, the waves felt so real to him that his body truly thought he was drowning, unable to breathe through the imagined saltwater flooding his lungs. Something like this? Child’s play for her.”

“Why would she lie about being pregnant? That makes no sense.”

“It makes perfect sense if you are Molly.” I recognized the way her brow drew down then, her pursed lips, the way she unfolded her hands and folded them again a few times as if distracted. It had just taken me a while because I never expected to see it on Mab. She was concerned, fighting with herself to say things she really didn't want to say. “Allow me to present you with a different set of events, an alternative to your reality. A young girl develops a growing obsession with her teacher. He tends to treat her as though she is somewhere between his daughter and his friend, but never quite as friendly as she would like. When he has a brush with death, and she has to shoulder his burdens in addition to her own trauma, grief, and guilt, it is too much for an already fragile mind. She shatters.

“When he returns, she has carved a place for him in the wreckage that remains of her life, and he is willing to visit but not to stay. The girl, desperate, will settle for the scraps of affection he gives her because it is better than nothing. Then she suddenly finds herself the bearer of a greater burden, a Queen, full of power and possibility, and a burning hunger worse than she has ever known. Imagine her bitter laugh when she realizes the one man capable of relieving that hunger is the same man she has thrown herself at for years without success. She has to have him. Her obsession becomes insanity.

“But she is not a child anymore. She knows that the best way to catch a man is to give him exactly what he wants. When his mind is offered up to her on a silver platter, it is the simplest of matters to make a few minor alterations. Nothing too severe, just an impulse here or there, nothing that anyone would notice if they were not already looking for it. But it is enough. It takes a few months to pay off, but she has already waited this long, she can wait awhile more. She plays hard to get so he does not grow suspicious. Besides, the Knight loves the chase. But finally, she has him. And she is not letting him get away now.

“He will not be content with just carnal relations, not this Knight. He wants things she can never give him. Honesty. Commitment. Love. So she starts to spin a web of illusions. Little things at first, glamour to hide the truth from her face, perhaps. But it spirals from there. It has to. His friends are suspicious, but she turns their words from his ears, worried they will break the spell. The child is unexpected but she can work with it. Children are so much easier to manipulate than adults. She has him deep in her clutches, a willing servant to her needs, even if maintaining the fiction of their life is hard work. And that is when a dark slithering voice in the back of her head points out an easier way.

“If she were Queen, it says, the high Queen, she could make her own Laws. She could set her own very nature and those of her subjects. She could dispense with this fiction and have everything she ever wanted. All she needs to do is kill me. She has the tool in her hands, the Winter Knight ready to go, she just needs to convince him to do it. She tries, letting slip what she does, taking him on missions that she knows he will object to, but it is not enough. He is not willing to risk the life he has to right what he feels is wrong. Then she figures it out – she already knows the one thing he is willing to overturn the entire world for: his child. So suddenly she adds to the illusion. She has seen pregnancy enough in her mother to make it convincing. From there it is nothing to convince him to swear fealty to her and to aid in her coup. Her only mistake is allowing herself to get caught. Otherwise, it is a very good plan.”

I stared in stunned silence and Mab just silently allowed me time to process. I lasted a whole minute or two before I burst out laughing. “Yeah, okay, that's much more plausible. Sounds just like Molly.” I wiped at my watering eyes. “Only a couple of flaws with that. Uh, one, Molly would never do any of that. Two, I didn't need her to fuck with my mind to be into her, okay? I think I just needed to get Karrin out of my system before I could see her as the obvious one for me. Three, do you know how many lies she’d have to tell for that to be true? Outright lies, not half-truths. Four, and this is the really important one, that is the most insane thing I have ever heard!”

“You are right. These are the actions of a woman who is not well. Yet…if Molly was not herself, she would not be the first Lady to lose control of her faculties, would she? Her predecessor lied directly to me and tried a similar plot.”

“Yeah, but Maeve was infected by the adversary. Molly wouldn't…” My heart stopped and my stomach lurched. “You think Molly is infected too.” She nodded gravely. “No. No! That's not. No. I'd have noticed. No chance.”

“I have examined your mind myself. She has a very subtle hand, but the evidence of her work is there if you look for it.” Absurdly, I put one hand to the side of my head, as if I’d feel the damage somehow. “I do not believe that Molly would violate your mind of her own volition. But if the adversary thought you were the best means of removing me from the field…”

I swallowed down bile, glad she’d insisted that I sit down because I would have collapsed otherwise. My mind was reeling, screaming at me that it wasn’t possible. Mab was either mistaken or lying. It hurt in every way imaginable to even think that Molly might have altered my mind, to think that everything we'd built together had been lies made to manipulate me. It sounded so profoundly wrong even in my own head. It felt like my heart was trying to jump up out of my body via my throat. But I’d seen the victims of mental manipulation before. I knew how the human brain would reject reality, even if it made sense, in favor of the spell. I recognized my behavior. Still, I asked, “Are you sure?”

“I am Mab, Queen of Winter. I do not speak unless I am certain.” Her voice was too soft, and it carried the weight of winter nights when the world is still and empty and silent, when the snow falls like a blanket in the glow of streetlights and the sky feels heavy above you, ready to collapse in and crush everything

I washed my face in my hands. Fucking Nemesis. Aurora, Lily, Maeve and now…a horrible thought struck me and I looked up into the black soulless eyes of a creature I’d sworn to serve. “Please don’t ask this of me.”

“I have asked nothing of you yet, my Knight.” The slightest emphasis was placed on her 'yet’ and I knew what it meant. I'd killed two Ladies at her command (well, I'd arranged for the killing of the second. I wasn’t the one who pulled the trigger but it wasn't the time for semantics) and she wouldn't hesitate to command more royal blood spilled at my hands.

“Don't. Please. Is there…is there anything you can do?” She arched an eyebrow in response. “You saved Lea. You brought her back, right? Can you save Molly?”

Mab stood slowly, smoothing out the skirt of a satiny cream-colored dress that clung to her in ways that would have been intriguing if I didn't sometimes wake up in a cold sweat from memories of our last carnal entanglement. “I will do what I can to ensure that Lady Molly is free of the contagion, but understand that my priorities are ever the same – my duty to my Court and my duty to the Gates. I am loath to lose another Knight or Lady, yet I cannot tolerate treason in my ranks. I will do what I can for you both, but I will also do what I must.”

“…Can I see her?” I hated myself a little for how desperate I sounded but I couldn’t have stopped myself any more than I could have stopped the sun from setting. “Just to know she’s okay and…to see for myself?”

“That would not be wise, Sir Dresden. Not at this juncture. It will take you time to recover from the damage done to you. Until then, I cannot be sure if you are my creature or hers. You will remain here, by yourself, until I can be sure your allegiances are properly aligned.”

“My mother, then. Can I see her at least?”

“Your mother is not here. Margaret LeFay died on October 31st, 1974. As I said, Molly is quite skilled with illusions.”

As she headed for the door, I heard a voice that sounded like my own ask, “How much of it was real? Was any of it? Do you know?”

She paused in the doorway. “Winter does not love, Sir Knight.” And on that note she departed, leaving me to my thoughts and solitude.

I woke up in bed, drenched in sweat and shaking. Molly was already awake, combing out her hair in front of the mirror like she'd done a thousand times before. “Molls, thank god.” I scrambled out of bed and she stood to meet me as I rushed to her, taking her in my arms and holding her tight. “I had the worst fucking nightmare.” I buried my face in her hair, inhaling the sweet scent of her shampoo and underneath it, that aroma that was uniquely her. I kissed the crown of her head over and over until she giggled and squirmed herself away enough to look up at me.

“Harry, you look like hell.” She reached up to caress my face and tears started rolling down my cheeks as I leaned into the touch. “What happened?”

“The Queen found us.” I kissed the bit of her palm beside my lips. “She knew everything.”

“I've had a few of those nightmares myself,” Molly admitted. “I just keep seeing Lloyd Slate, the day you and mom rescued me, only he's got your face. Sometimes I'm tied up somewhere, being heinously tortured with the knowledge that it's never going to end. She'll keep doing it forever.”

“This started like that but then…she had me in this room and we were talking, just talking and she said…” I choked on the words as if by saying them out loud I’d make it true. “She said you were infected, like Maeve. That this, us, everything between us was just to get me to kill her. She said you'd messed with my mind and…” I placed my hands on her swollen stomach. “He's not impossible, right? He's real? This is all real?”

“I sure hope he's real. I'm going to be pissed if I've been skipping coffee and booze for months for some _imaginary_ kid.” We shared a kiss, deep and passionate and reassuringly real. I could feel her laugh against my lips when we felt the baby start kicking. “He likes hearing your voice. We both do. I love you, Harry Dresden. You remember that when you wake up, okay?”

“When I wake up? What do you–”

I woke up in a bed, but it wasn't my own. Or at least it wasn't the one at home. I was back in Mab's not-a-prison-cell, laying on the bed staring at a greyish ceiling and I knew that this wasn't a nightmare, this was reality. I slammed my head back against the hard mattress a few times and swore until I ran out of words and started repeating myself. The dream had felt so real. Then again, so had the last year of my life and now…I tried to sift through my memories, to decide what was real and what wasn’t. What had been illusions? What had been lies and glamor? With nothing better to do, I analyzed and overanalyzed every memory I had of her.

Had there been a hint of triumph in her eyes, a slight note of satisfaction in her soothing words the night Karrin and I split? And there had been moments, hadn't there, when she seemed irritated that I treated her like a regular human? Karrin had been worried that we weren't good for Maggie. Had she seen things I hadn't? She was always good at that. There were a million odd looks, hesitant words or phrases, strange reactions, things I'd attributed to her mantle getting in the way or maybe just to Molly being Molly. Now I saw them for what they were – glaring red flags that I’d overlooked. The night I’d looked at her with my Sight, I'd felt she was reaching out to devour me. In the days and months after, I’d started to think I understood – I _had_ become a different man. I had a new life. I had given everything to Molly and I thought she'd done the same, until neither of us was what we'd been before and together we became something new.

Turns out I had it right the first time. Thinking of the memory pulled it back into crystal clear view and I saw it now. A million threads from her to me, binding me to her. A dark hunger threatening to consume me. A creature, wearing Molly's face, her features, using her voice and calling to me. Stars and fucking stones I was an idiot. How could I have missed it? It was so obvious. My thoughts went around and around like that. At first, I was angry. Angry at myself for not seeing it sooner. Angry at Nemesis for ruining my life. Angry at the universe and all the deities and higher powers in it, that not a single one had intervened. Furious that just this once, not even for just this once, was I allowed to have real actual happiness.

But eventually, the anger burned out and what was left in its place…it wasn't pretty. Because in all that anger not once had I been angry at Molly and it wasn't hard to figure out why: it was my fault. She could have had a perfectly normal life if I'd never shown up on her doorstep. She could have grown into a healthy, happy, sane adult if I'd just done my job, taught her what she needed to know and kept her out of my messes. If I had just been stronger, if I hadn’t disappeared, maybe she wouldn't have been so susceptible. If I'd given her the time of day, acknowledged her feelings, looked her way…now it seemed so simple. If I could go back in time I’d shout at myself until I was blue in the face to take notice, that she wasn't a child, that we could both be happier than we'd ever been.

Except, it was all a lie, wasn’t it? Had I made her happy at all? Had she made _me_ happy? Or had she just programmed me to think I was happy? My wife. Our son. A stable family and a happy home for Maggie. I had thought it was too good to be true so many times, but I didn't once stop to think that it _might not actually be true_. I cried. I screamed and yelled and swore. I punched a few dents in the wall. Mostly I just laid there and stared at the ceiling trying to wake myself up from this living nightmare.

My 'days’ marched on like that. I say days hesitantly because I had no clue how much time was passing. Meals arrived, but I often didn't notice until later so I couldn't be sure if they were coming at regular intervals or not. Eventually, the empty ache in my stomach outweighed the lack of appetite and general paranoia against eating food in Faerie. It tasted like real food. Then again, I wasn’t sure I could trust myself to know what was real anymore. I at least kept a tally each time I slept, judging that left to its own devices my body would still probably force me to sleep roughly once a day on average.

I hated sleep, and I longed for it just the same. At first, I hoped my subconscious would make an appearance, tell me this was all some trick or lie. Looking back, I don't know how I could have trusted him any more than my waking thoughts, but it was irrelevant since he never showed. Instead, I got dreams. I would have considered them boring under normal circumstances, but just then they were exquisite torture. They all started the same: I'd wake up in our bedroom back in Chicago. Everything would seem normal. I would convince myself that everything with Mab had been a bad dream. I'd play in the backyard with the girls, or cook them dinner. Maybe mom would stop by. Sometimes Molly was still pregnant, sometimes he was already born, either way, we weren't afraid or worried. Everything was beautiful and perfect. And then I'd wake up. If I could have stayed asleep forever and kept on living in that fantasy world I would have. It was the waking up and realizing all over again that it wasn't real, that it had never been real, that I couldn't stand.

By sleep cycle three, I knew I would go crazy (crazier) if I didn't find something to do besides sleep, brood and break my knuckles against the stone wall. I started working out as best as I could in the tiny room, jogging back and forth, doing push-ups and sit-ups, basic stuff for me but it passed some time. That helped for a few days, having something to do. I could push aside my thoughts and if the grief and pain threatened to swallow me whole again, I just pushed myself harder.

By sleep cycle six, the novelty had worn off. I needed something else. I wasn’t up for much socializing but I hadn’t seen another soul in roughly a week, and that had only been my brief interaction with Mab. Now, I could gladly stay in my own house for a month on end with a stack of paperbacks and a few texts on magical theory and never see another person. In fact, prior to having Maggie and Molly in my life, I'd done it more than once. But there's a difference between choosing to isolate yourself in a setting where you have things to keep you busy and being forcibly isolated in a room with nothing but a few pieces of furniture.

By sleep cycle 7, I was starting to get desperate. It's not that I wanted to escape and go home (although, I did.) I wanted to recover, to know that my thoughts and feelings were my own. I’d been slowly trying to convince myself to separate my feelings from facts, correcting myself every time I thought about how much I loved Molly or how much I missed her, reminding myself that she wasn’t going to be waiting for me on the other side. Even if Mab was able to cure her like she had Lea, it wouldn't make our last year together real. I clenched my fist over the remembered feeling of the first time I felt our son kicking at my hand. “I guess I should at least be proud of her skill with illusions,” I said half-heartedly aloud to myself. Even I thought it was a pitiful attempt to make lemonade out of the most rotten, sour lemons I’d ever been given, but it helped cut the pain.

So, as much as I wanted to go…well, we were back to square one on the ‘home’ front I guess. So as much as I wanted to go back to Chicago and scoop up Maggie in my arms and never let her go, I didn’t think it was wise to defy Mab and leave Arctis Tor. But since she hadn’t specifically said I needed to stay in this exact room…I broke apart the chair and tried to lever the splinters to pry open the door. It had opened in for Mab and it had nothing, not a doorknob or a keyhole or anything else on it, so there was a chance that if I could wiggle it enough to just get a little bit of purchase on it…but I couldn’t. The next 'day' the chair was replaced, looking good as new.

I used it to smash the mirror, expecting it to be a two-way that she was using to monitor me. If I unveiled it, maybe I could get her attention, ask her to let me explore the castle or at least give me something to do. But there wasn't anything behind it but a bare wall. Not wanting my efforts to go to waste, I snatched up one of the larger shards of glass and wrapped it in a bit of torn bedsheet. I wasn’t sure exactly what I was going to do with my improvised tool/weapon, but I knew I felt a little better with it in my hand. It was a reminder that I wasn’t just a helpless victim, I was a man who had fought my entire life and overcome insurmountable odds to survive this long. I wasn’t going to let some asshat from beyond the stars get the best of me.

My dreams were restless that night. It started the same as always. I woke up, kissed my wife good morning, planted a kiss on her extremely distended stomach. _Could be any day now,_ I thought, running through my mental checklist again to make sure we had everything ready for our son’s arrival. We walked out the door together, hand in hand, heading for the kitchen to make breakfast. Only when I turned around on the landing to shut the bedroom door, there was no bedroom. It was like looking at a pixelated image where the pixels were slowly disappearing, everything blocky and distorted. When I stopped to ask Molly about it, she just frowned and tugged on my hand, pulling me down the stairs.

I shook it off as we went about our morning…until the same thing happened to the stove. And the fridge. And then the whole kitchen. I started freaking out about it because while I’ve seen some weird stuff this was out there even by my standards, but Molly just clucked her tongue. “Stop that. I love you, idiot.”

“What?” I couldn’t see how the two were related. “But, the kitchen?’

“The kitchen is fine. We’re both fine.” She put her hands on both sides of my face. “Listen, Harry. We are both fine. Do you understand?” I started to say I did even though I really didn’t when her hands started disintegrating. “Damnit. Harry!” She scolded.

“Molls. Oh my god. What-what’s happening? How do I stop it?”

“Come hell or high water, remember? I'm yours, until the end of time and after. I love you.” Her legs had disintegrated as well, and her hair was fading.

“I love you too. Molly. I love you. How can I-What can I do?”

“Remember.” Her voice was distorted, like it was coming through a warped speaker, and it was the last thing she said before she disappeared entirely and I woke up with my arms outstretched around empty air. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah. So. That.  
> I'm so so sorry.  
> I am a monster.
> 
> If you haven't left yet (and I'm judging you for your taste in fics if you're still here, btw) I'm guessing you're in it for the long haul (some might even say, come hell or high water? ...yeah, I'll see myself out.) Next up we have our final part of High Water. In case you couldn't guess from what you just read it's full of soul-crushing despair, a hell of a lot of anger and violence, a few very traumatized characters, and, because it wouldn't be a Dresden Files story without one, an epic showdown where Harry is overwhelmed, out-classed, outnumbered and most likely going to die painfully. So, like every book in the canon. Not going to lie, it's pretty damn bleak. But y'know, I set out writing this because I just wanted good things for Molly. So, um, it's probably got a happy ending, right? On the other hand, I am a monster. Well, I guess we'll see what happens!
> 
> Seriously though, thanks for sticking around and reading through all of this. I hope you're enjoying and continue to enjoy it. Every single kudo and comment from you folks makes my freakin' day so from the bottom of my (cold, wretched, monstrous) heart thank you!


End file.
